Regret
by Melodist
Summary: Sometimes you're sorry for having done something, and sometimes you're only sorry you got caught. Slightly disturbing imagery. Leo/OCish.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: **I'm just going to quietly sneak this fic onto the interwebs and see if anyone out there even remembers me. This is an idea that's been burning a hole in my brain for a while and I thought it might help me get back into writing. Please please please review. Good, bad, I don't care. I just like to know that people are still listening.

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**Regret**

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"I want you to know… that I'm truly, truly sorry about this." A tear threatened to fall from her soft brown eyes as she looked at the man laying on the hard gravel underneath her. He was not a large man, and in his current state he seemed even smaller than he should have. It was sad really, how quickly someone could go from thinking he held so much power to having absolutely none. His casual business suit was rumpled and dirty, the expensive stitches popped in a few places where he'd struggled to free himself. Tight black ropes held him in place though, and the most he'd been able to accomplish was to chafe the tender skin of his wrists and ankles where they were unprotected. The stink of sweat seeped from the dark circles under his arms and around his neck where he'd managed to soak through several layers of cloth. Dark frightened eyes stared up at her and Emi nodded sagely. "It will be quick, I promise you."

He shook his head and she could hear his muffled cries from behind the tie-dye patterned duct-tape that was covering his chapped lips. Normally she preferred plain silver tape; the bright blue and purple pattern was entirely too comical for so serious of work, and Emi didn't want anyone thinking she was unprofessional. Unfortunately tonight had been a rush order and there was no choice but to grab the last roll that had been in her toolbox.

"I'm sure you're asking yourself, 'why me?'. The only thing I can say is you pissed off someone, somewhere." She tried to smile at him, but the sadness in her eyes showed through. A small wisp of brown hair escaped the tight ponytail at the nape of her neck and it brushed over his forehead as she leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Have no fear, you will not suffer. I am fast and kind. Please understand that you are a dead man and if I were to leave you alive now, someone else would find you by morning and they might not be as respectful as I am."

Emi gently rolled the man over despite his frantic struggles and encircled his head with her arm. Many years of practice and execution had given her the strength and grace to provide the promised quick and painless death. With a quick snap of his neck, the man's struggling ceased and she sighed heavily, her heart sorrowful. It really was such a waste, but every word spoken had been the truth. If not her… it would have been someone else, and even though her work was dark and sometimes grisly, she did her best to try to comfort them in their last moments of life.

She pulled a packet of papers from her bag and gently placed them under the body as she'd been instructed, then stood up and took a last look around. Removing her robin's egg blue Polaroid camera, the one given to her as a present on her birthday nearly ten years ago, Emi snapped a final picture of the body. Packing the camera back up and waving the picture lightly as she walked away, Emi did not turn to look back at her handiwork. It was not something she took pleasure in.

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Her apartment was small, but nicely furnished, and located in a decent part of the city. The call had come in around 6pm that evening, the deed done an hour and a half later. By 9:15pm, the photo had been traded for a stack of cash that was tucked safely in the bag that she now dropped lightly on the floor. The window behind her green micro-suede sofa was open a few inches and the matching drapes were quietly moving in the night breeze. Emi knew that she had not left it open herself, but she was not worried. There was a soft light coming from underneath her bedroom door and she let her eyes flutter shut as she tried to look inside herself and let the events of the night fall away from her like falling water. She pictured the drops of horror and death rolling down her body and away from her, over and over, until finally she felt clean enough to venture into the bedroom.

The strong lines of her boyfriend's body were illuminated by the dull yellow bulb in her antique lamp as she walked through the door. He was facing away from her, looking at a framed photo on the dresser. She saw his finger gently tracing the lines of her face in the picture and for some reason, her heart stopped for a moment. There was something in the way he stood… the way the muscles in his arms were a tad too tense. The slight hang of his head. Something wasn't right.

"Hey." She said softly as she pulled her hair free of the ponytail. "I thought you were busy tonight."

He turned then, and though she saw no emotions in the dark leathery green skin of his face, his brown eyes flashed dangerously behind the mask. For the first time in many years, Emi faltered. She paused midstep and lowered her hands to her sides, her heart skipping a beat or two. He knew… Somehow…_he knew_.

"Leo…" She prayed she was wrong. It had to be something else. He couldn't have known… she'd been _so careful_ not to let him see. For three years, she'd hidden it from him.

"Who are you?" He demanded roughly. "Because this?" He gestured angrily at the picture on the dresser, the one of her giggling at something he'd said as he carefully lined her pretty face up in the camera. "This is not the same woman I saw tonight."

"I… Leo, please…" She wanted to explain. To tell him that it wasn't what he thought. Emi wanted to break down and cry and tell Leonardo that what he might have seen wasn't her. Not the real her. It was a job! Only a god damned job, she didn't kill people for fun. She didn't enjoy it! It was all she could to do keep from crying every time she took a life. But there was no words she could think of that would lessen the blow. Emi was an assassin. A contract killer. All her life, she'd been _so careful_… "I'm not a bad person…" She whispered softly, and her eyes left his. It was too hard to look at him. Too hard to see the pain and betrayal shining there.

With a loss of control that was alien to her, Emi collapsed at the foot of her bed and hung her head in shame. _Shame_. Something else unfamiliar. Silence hung in the room like a dark haze and she almost choked, seemingly unable to find the breath even to think. Not Leo… not the best thing that had happened to her in a life of solitary despair… she couldn't lose him now… but she had no words to make him stay. He would walk out of her life now and never see her again.

"Do you know why I came here tonight? I wanted to surprise you." The anger in his voice sliced through her like a knife and she shuddered involuntarily. "I came here to give you this." Something landed next to her on the bed, and she looked up through blurry eyes to see a small black box.

Emi's fragile composure broke as she shook her head, trying to deny what it was that lay in front of her eyes. With trembling hands, she gingerly picked up the box and opened it, the sparkle of the small diamond shining like a spotlight in her eyes. It wasn't fancy, and it wasn't even gold. Just a simple tiny diamond in a silver ring, and it was the most beautiful thing in the world to her. And also the most heartbreaking sight she'd ever seen.

"I loved you, Emi. I still do. But I don't know where to go from here."

She dumbly nodded her head, as if she agreed with him. Where would she go from here? But then, if she was being honest with herself, she knew exactly what would happen next. He would leave. And she would sit there for a while after. Then… when she was done feeling sorry for herself, she would stand up and pack her bags. Just as she had done a hundred times before. Pack her bags, walk out the door and never look back. Within a few short hours, she would most likely be in a taxi heading for a new apartment and waiting for the next job. Nevermind that her heart had just shattered in her chest. Nevermind that the one guy she had ever really loved was about to walk out her door and she would never see him again. Even if Leo changed his mind and came back to her apartment… she would be gone by the time he got there. It would be better to cut ties tonight rather than drag anything out. She tried not to think of the night that they'd met… He had been so calm and sweet, urging her not to be scared of his green muscled frame. Not that she could ever really be scared of him… she'd witnessed things in her lifelong career that would have shocked his honorable senses. He had no idea what it would truly take to scare her.

With a shuddering breath, Emi gathered herself slowly and stood, still looking at the ring. She closed her fist and the box snapped shut with a nearly deafening clap in the silent room. Her eyes closed slowly once… twice… and then she looked at him again. With only a slight quaver in her voice, she managed to speak without breaking apart.

"I love you." Then she gently tossed the ring back to him, and he caught it purely on instinct. "I guess I should have known you'd find out some day. I never meant for you to find out… I didn't want…" Emi sighed and looked away from him. "I didn't want you to be disappointed in me. I never wanted to see you look at me the way you're looking at me now."

She turned from him and walked slowly to the small window next to the bed and set her forehead against it, willing the cool glass beneath the curtain to dampen the throbbing in her temple.

"Why, Emi?" The words sounded strained, like he wasn't sure what he was trying to ask. But she knew the answer and her voice was stronger than she thought it could be.

"Your father taught you everything he knew, Leo… he trained you to be who you are today. I see him shining through you and your brothers. You're all so different… and yet I can see his love and training in each one of you." Emi paused and took small breath. "My father did the same for me… and I can't change who I am anymore than you can."

"I don't…" Leo stopped, then started again after a moment. "I… I need some time. To think. We can figure this out, Emi. I'll… I can help you." She could hear the quiet desperation in his voice and it nearly made her wince.

"There's no fixing me, Leo. I'm not a problem that you can solve. You saw me tonight. I'm very good at what I do, and it took a lifetime to get there. There's no going back for me at this point."

"Emi…"

"You should go." Her heart felt like a lead weight in her chest and it took all her self control not to throw herself at him in a begging, weeping mess.

"Please let me help you, Emi."

She hated the way he kept saying her name, like he thought it would make a difference. "Just go, Leo." And she felt the final nail being hammered into the coffin as she lied to him for the last time. "Just go. Think. Do what you need to do. I'll be here if you decide to come back."

He didn't want to, she knew that. But at the same time it must have been hard for him to look at her. He was always so noble, so honorable. So trusting. And tonight she'd shattered all the carefully built illusions of their relationship. Why, oh why, hadn't she refused that first night when he politely asked to see her again? Why had she kept seeing him? Why had she agreed to meet his family, and learn his secrets? And why the hell had she ever thought that this would have ever worked out between them. She embodied all that he and his brothers fought against and like a naïve little girl she had thought that maybe, just maybe, the fairytale romance would be hers. She had lied to herself more than she'd lied to him, and now she was paying the price.

"I'll come back." Emi could feel him move to stand behind her, and her senses told her that he wanted to touch her. To comfort her like it wasn't her fault. But in the end there was just silence and she didn't stop him when he turned and left the bedroom.

She waited only fifteen minutes before pulling a black and silver duffle bag from beneath the bed. In it was all the identification, papers, and money she needed for her next move. Only pausing for a quick drink of water, she retrieved her bag from the living room that held the camera and cash and placed it in the duffle with some clothes and toiletries. There were a few baubles and trinkets scattered around the apartment and Emi very badly wanted to leave them behind, but she just couldn't bear it. Most of them had been gifts from Leonardo and his brothers. She scooped them all up and deposited them in a small plastic bag before throwing it in with the rest of what she was packing.

The picture on the dresser sat, almost mocking her, and she wondered if she should take it with her, or just burn it. Leo had placed it there, he said, so that he could look at her even when she wasn't home. She figured he wouldn't want it now, but couldn't bring herself to destroy it. The Emi in the photo was so happy and pretty. So innocent looking. It was startling to her eyes even, how much that picture was a lie. Just like everything else. She sighed and threw it in the bag; she would burn it later. It was just too soon.

With one last long defeated look around the apartment full of happy memories, Emi flicked off the lights, closed the door, and didn't look back.

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**Author's Notes:** I'm not sure if this is a one-shot or not. I haven't decided. I might let the reviews and comments make my decision for me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: Forgot this on the first chapter, oops! I don't own Leo or the turtles. Just Emi.

**Author's Notes: **Woot! I know at least 4 readers have stuck with me. Thanks for the reviews, guys. I really really do appreciate it. This chapter has very very little dialogue. It's mostly just Leo's POV on what he saw.

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**Regret **– Chapter 2

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Leonardo did not lie. It was not that he couldn't, just that he preferred not to. In his mind the truth was always the most important part of a relationship, be it with someone he'd just met or someone he'd known many years. A relationship based on lies was by the very definition, a lie. So perhaps that's why he felt so uneasy when he'd called up Emi that afternoon and politely explained that he would be busy with his brothers and probably wouldn't see her that evening. His stomach had been reeling as he fumbled around with the words, trying to make sure she wasn't suspicious of his intentions. The ring had been sitting in his room for two months, and he was waiting for the right night. He wanted to shock her. Surprise her. Send her into a hysterical fit like the women in those romantic comedies that Donatello loved to watch when he thought no one was home.

It was purely symbolic, of course. Legally, he didn't exist. There would be no license, no medical benefits for her. No insurance policies if something ever happened to him. Nothing in the real world that she could show off to people. But he loved her and wanted her to know that she was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Emi had always been such a sweet old-fashioned sort of girl. It was two years before she'd agreed to let him spend the night in her apartment, and even then, the most that happened between them physically was some intense snuggling. Not that he minded in the least. She was fragile; delicate. Buried deep in her eyes was a pain so deep he wasn't even sure if she was aware of it. Something bad had happened to her that left her untrusting of people, unwilling to form attachments. He'd seen it that first night and the overwhelming need to protect her drove him into a near insanity. She would never be hurt again, not while he was nearby.

The first time he'd touched her, she'd tensed as if ready to run. It got easier from there. Each hug or kiss seemed to relax her just a little more, and now she would happily run into his arms or curl up close to him in bed and be content. He never asked for more, and she never offered. Leonardo knew that if nothing else ever happened between them, he would still die happy. Just having her in his arms was enough for him.

So perhaps that's why the lie that slipped from his mouth over the phone sent a dread flittering through him. It just _wasn't right_. He should have just said he'd be there. He'd get down on a knee and be done with it. But there were plans to make… flowers, candles, music and trying to figure out how to get her out of the apartment. But the more he thought about it, the worse the feeling in the pit of his stomach got. He would never lie to her again. If this was the torment that it caused, then he'd had quite enough.

She'd taken it a lot easier than he'd thought. It was three years to the date that they'd first met in that dark ally and he was mildly surprised that she didn't remember that. Or if she did, perhaps she didn't want to point it out and make him feel bad. That was the sort of girl she was.

He'd perched on the fire escape outside of her apartment, trying to figure out what he could come up with to get her out of the building. It was still early in the evening, only a little after six or so, and he'd still not thought of anything. He had flowers and candles in a backpack, and was nervously rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. Leo realized maybe he should have thought of something sooner, but no lies seemed plausible. It just wasn't his thing. He had been about ready to just open the window all the way and slip inside, forgetting all his plans when a phone rang.

He could hear it through the few inches she'd left the window open in the afternoon heat. Leo would wait until she was done, then go inside. Something told him that he shouldn't listen in; her conversation was none of his business. The sound of the ring bothered him though. It wasn't her cell phone, or at least not the one he was used to. Had she gotten a new one since that morning? It didn't seem likely. And in the three years he'd known her, she'd never changed from the simple ring she preferred. Perhaps his bad feeling from lying to her earlier was making him paranoid, but something just seemed _wrong_ to him.

"Valkyrie.", came her soft voice. The tone of her voice startled him even more than the words that she spoke. "Yes. The name?" There was a moment of silence, and then she continued. "Anything else?" Another pause. "Leave the packet at the usual place. I'll call when it's done." She hung up without seeming to wait for a reply. He had never heard her like this. Her voice was… emotionless. Utterly void of any of the warmth he'd always known. His ears knew that it was Emi and yet… she sounded like someone he did not know. All thoughts of proposing flew from his mind, and the only thing he could think was _'that's not my Emi'_.

It was hard to keep track of her. The fading sunlight was still too bright for him to openly follow her as he'd have liked. Something in the way she moved, the way she was so intent on what she was doing made him uneasy. As he watched her move, there seemed to be something off about the way she was blending in to the crowds so well. Years of fighting or observing the criminal element told him that she was trying very hard to not be noticed. He didn't quite know how he knew, he could just tell.

She briefly disappeared into a postal shipping supply store, but reemerged within minutes. Her light brown hair gently lifted in the breeze as she lowered her head to examine a folder that she now carried. It was way too far off for him to make out the contents, but there must not have been much inside. Emi quickly stuffed it into the small backpack she was carrying and continued on her way.

Leonardo had been following her for nearly an hour, sometimes losing sight of her only to just barely catch a glimpse of her small figure rounding a corner or crossing a street. He felt that he'd never been so intent on following someone as he was this evening. It all seemed so unreal.. his Emi…_ his Emi_… this was not her. This couldn't be her. This being that had Emi's face and body, but none of the warmth and love that he'd seen in her. How could he have never seen this side of her? How could he not have noticed?

It was starting to get dark by the time she stopped at a small secluded park, far from the sounds of the city. There was a small path with a chain across it bearing a 'closed for construction' sign on it. Emi paid it no mind and hopped over it with a grace he'd never seen. Leo followed her, keeping to the trees and brush so that she would not see his form if she happened to look over her shoulder. She must be meeting someone here… drugs, maybe? Could she possibly be some sort of dealer? He knew she didn't use any; the signs would have been too obvious. He would have known that, for sure. But perhaps that was how she made her money? He'd never questioned her work. She'd always told him that she did freelance journalist projects, but that was only for fun. Emi had money inherited from her father, she'd said. As long as she never lived too extravagantly, she would be set for life… or had that all been a lie? He just didn't know.

He soon ran out of cover. There was a small clearing ahead that he would not be able to cross without being seen, and to go around would take too much time. He could already see her walking up to a man that waited near a broken lamp. They were too far away to make out words, but it almost looked like the man was expecting her… Well, maybe not her, but someone. His posture seemed to show surprise, but then he was nodding his head at her. He was sweating profusely, and seemed incredibly nervous and agitated. There was a small silver briefcase sitting next to a moss-covered bench that looked to be in disrepair. The man pointed at it and seemed to be asking Emi something. She just nodded and pulled out what looked to Leo like a small wad of cash. A dealer then… was that what she was? It just seemed so.. _wrong._

The man turned away from Emi and that was when Leo's heart skipped a beat. She was on the man before he'd even bent down for the case. With a swift knock to the head that disoriented him, Emi had the man tied up and on the ground within seconds. Leonardo was frozen. He couldn't move, he couldn't think. Never had he seen Emi move like that. She was a clumsy, uncoordinated… he'd stopped her from tripping or backing into things more times than he could count… but this… this was not Emi.

The woman that looked like Emi, but wasn't Emi, tore something in the coming moonlight and he could see her touch the man's face. There was something over his mouth now and he was starting to struggle against the ropes. She left him like that for a moment while rummaging through his pockets. It looked like she was checking his wallet for something; what it was, he didn't know. She didn't take anything, just looked, and then gently placed it back in his pants. He could see now that she was wearing soft gloves… he'd never even noticed when she put them on. There was a lot he hadn't noticed, he realized.

It was then that she started to speak, and Leo wished he could move, wished he could get closer to hear what she was saying. He could see that something had changed now… her body no longer seemed so rigid, so restrained. Her face in the evening light seemed to soften into the woman that he knew. Her hand went to the man's face as if she were trying to comfort him. The man did not look to be comforted though. He struggled more as Emi then rolled him over to his stomach and Leonardo watched in frozen horror as her arms went around the man's head.

_No_, he thought. _No, this isn't what it looks like._ Even after she snapped the man's neck, he could only shake his head in numb denial. It was all some cruel prank. It had to be. What he'd seen could not be the truth.

There was a small click of a camera, and then Emi was walking back toward him, back down the path she'd entered from. She was waving the picture lightly as she passed, very nearly close enough for him to reach out and touch her. And she never knew he was there.

He waited almost ten minutes, until he was sure she wouldn't be back before he approached the body. There was a packet of papers tucked underneath him and without even thinking about it, Leo pulled them out and flipped through them. They didn't mean much to him… mostly reports on spending and budgets for some company he'd never heard of. Graphs, charts, and e-mails, all bundled together. He didn't know why, but he put them back. Some twisted part of his mind told him that there was a reason why she'd done it. If something happened to the papers she'd planted there, perhaps it would fall back on her somehow. Even after all he'd seen, he still felt a need to protect her. Maybe she'd been forced to do it… maybe she had no choice…

The small briefcase held only a small hard drive. Emi had left it there, untouched, so he put it back as well. As he looked around the scene, all the signs pointed to something that he wasn't sure he was prepared to deal with. She was a pro, there was no doubt about that. Nothing he'd seen could prove otherwise. From the moment she answered that damned cell phone, every one of her steps had been intent and methodical. She knew what she was doing… she'd done it before. Of that, he was absolutely sure. Emi… the woman he loved. The woman he'd been planning to get down on his knees in front of tonight… Emi… Assassin…

A guttural scream echoed through the small clearing and it wasn't until he was on his knees with tears in his eyes that Leonardo realized it was his own voice. His fist pounded the grass underneath him and he begged whatever gods might be listening for something… _anything_, to take away all he'd just seen. He'd give anything to go back only a couple hours… go back to when he was still planning to surprise her. To before he'd known. Never in his life had he ever so badly wanted to not know the truth. But it was too late… He would never be able to look at Emi the same. There was nothing left to do now, but ask her why.

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**Author's Note**: Well… that's it for now. I'm really not sure where to go with this. I didn't really have anything else planned beyond this, but I might work on it if there's any interest. Thankyou for the reviews, again. Please please please, if you made it this far, take a moment to let me know what you thought.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Leo or the turtles. Just Emi.

**Author's Notes: **This story just won't let go of me. And this chapter went a lot longer than I'd intended. Establishing a back story takes time and I hope people don't mind reading about who Emi was before Chapter 1 took place.

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**Regret **– Chapter 3

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_Three years ago_

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"It was a setup." The Valkyrie hissed into the phone. The young woman held the disposable cell against her ear as she walked quickly down a darkened street, trying to ignore the pain that seemed to come from every nerve in her body. She was limping just slightly, but pain was something she could handle. Something familiar. What she was really concerned about was that the job she'd been hired to do turned out to be a goddamned fake. There were very few people out on the backstreets this time of night, and those that were knew enough to keep to themselves. No faces turned to look at her as she swept past. There was something in her gait that told them, '_Look away. Don't remember this person'_.

It had been a good twenty minutes since she'd left the dockside warehouse where the shit had hit the fan, and she was pretty sure there was no one left alive to follow her. She'd only seen one man there, and he wasn't a problem anymore. Just to be on the safe side though, she'd wound her way through alleys and backstreets for a long time before pulling out the phone and dialing the number she knew by heart.

"What?" The raspy voice on the other end actually sounded surprised. She didn't think he had anything to do with the setup, but one could never be too sure in this business.

"A setup. It was Tony. He must have wanted to tie up all the loose ends from that job we pulled last week."

"Christ, are you sure?" She could just imagine the cigarette dropping from his red chapped lips as he started to shuffle through papers frantically.

"I'm pretty damned sure."

"Vinnie is gonna shit bricks when he finds out. Tony's one of our best clients. He knows better than to pull crap like this." The fat man on the other end of the line sighed.

"Knew."

"What?"

"Tony _knew_ better. I doubt he's doing much thinking right now." A car turned down the street ahead of her, and she ducked into the darkened alcove of a pawn shop door. She leaned against the dirty brown bricks of the wall for support as she waited for the car to go past.

"Oh shit, girl. Please tell me you didn't do what I think you did."

"He tried to shoot me, Marty. Bastard has crappy aim though. It's why he hired us in the first place." There was another long sigh from the other end and she started walking again, slower this time. The pain was really starting to take a toll on her. She had to reach Meredith's clinic soon. Meredith was the closest she had to a friend and confidant. She was also incredibly handy at patching up all the bumps and bruises that people like her received in the line of duty.

"Are you hurt?" There was genuine concern in Marty's voice and she knew that he couldn't have had anything to do with tonight's betrayal. Her father and Marty had worked together for years, and he'd become almost like a second dad to her. Albeit, a slightly perverted dad that lacked basic hygiene skills.

"Not bad." She lied. When the gun failed, Tony had used his fists instead. And a rusty lead pipe. She'd taken quite a few blows before wrestling it away from him. It only took her one good swing and he was down. The guy was stupid and clumsy. She was neither. The Valkyrie did not use guns, though. Her approach was more hands on, and she had plenty of experience taking down guys twice her size. Usually a shot to the junk was more than enough to send them to the ground, and it was simple work from there.

Tony hadn't been dead from the first swing of the pipe. It had connected solidly, right above his left ear and he'd dropped like a rock. She'd been hired for a hit tonight though, and she'd damn well have her hit. There was no mistaking that he had wanted her dead, and she'd had no compassion for him. It had actually been a lot easier to kill him than her usual targets. Most of the men she had to kill probably didn't deserve it, though she didn't really know. She never asked questions. It was better that way for all involved. This man though… his hands were as bloodstained as her were. Probably even more so. There was no sadness in her eyes that night as she'd tied him up with rope and weighted down his body with the concrete block that he'd probably intended for her. A soft moan had escaped Tony's lips as she'd rolled him toward the open water at one end of the warehouse, dragging the block along with her. His body would probably be found in a couple days. She hadn't really cared.

Grey eyes had flickered open just as she was about push the weight into the water. _"No…"_ he'd croaked out.

She hadn't even looked at him as she shoved the concrete block. The ropes that held him went taut, and then he was rolling off into the dark water without another sound. The adrenaline had started to wear off as she waited to make sure that he wouldn't somehow free himself from her knots. As the last of the bubbles had come to the surface, she'd begun to feel the pain of the fight.

"How bad is 'not bad'?" Marty asked now, and she grimaced as a sharp stab of pain went through her chest.

"Dunno. Bruised ribs, maybe. Could be broken. It's hard to breathe, but he hit me pretty good. Do me a favor, Marty."

"Anything."

"Call Mer. Tell her to expect me. I'll be at the clinic in ten minutes."

"She's not going to like that."

"She's not going to like it if she hears that I didn't see her."

"Yah, you're right there… I'll go talk to Vinnie after I call… he'll be pissed about this."

"_I'm_ pissed about this." With disgust, she hung up the disposable phone and dropped it into the street. She kicked it down into one of the little side drains where running water could still be heard. There had been some light showers off and on all day and the streets were still sparkling with rainwater. The assassin known as Valkyrie made her way silently through the streets, clutching her side and trying not to be noticed.

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"Oh my god." The dark skinned woman towered over her as she sat on the examination table. She'd made it to the small clinic in less than ten minutes, but Meredith was waiting for her at the door already. There were no lights on, and they hadn't spoken until the front doors were locked up tight once again and the two women had made their way to the little room at the back of the clinic.

She winced as she looked down at the bruises still forming all over her chest and stomach. Tony must have hit her more times than she'd previously thought. It looked like an elephant had been using her torso for a punching bag.

"Give it to me straight, doc. Am I going to live?"

Meredith frowned as she poked lightly at bruises. The smaller woman inhaled sharply and closed her eyes, waves of pain rolling over her.

"Well… I don't think anything is broken. It will be hard to tell without x-rays though."

"I don't think my insurance will cover that." The glare she received was not unexpected.

"Do I even want to know what happened to you tonight?"

"I thought your dad was a mafia doc. Didn't he teach you not to ask questions?"

Meredith frowned and turned away, sighing. "You know the drill. You didn't get these from me." She pulled a small unmarked bottle of painkillers from a drawer and held them out. The Valkyrie took the bottle and dropped them into the backpack lying on the table next to her. She pulled out a stack of cash and handed it to the doctor.

"For your trouble."

Shaking her head, the taller woman took the money. "Leave your clothes, too. I'll take care of them. I have the sweater and jeans from last time you came in; they're clean. I'll go get them."

"Thanks, Mer."

"Thank me by giving up this crazy shit you do, and get a real job."

"I'll work on that."

She probably should have taken a cab home, but it really wasn't that much further to walk. The pain pills would remain safely in her bag until she was back at her own small apartment; she didn't need her senses dulled for the walk home. The pain didn't seem to be increasing at all. It just stayed at a steady jaw-clenching threshold. She wished she could say it was the worst pain she'd ever been in, but unfortunately there had been much, much worse.

The streets were a little busier the closer she got to her own building. There weren't a lot of people out, but there was enough so that it made her a little nervous whenever someone approached. The last thing she needed right now was to be jostled around with the pain still singing through her body. There was only about five more blocks to go when a flashing light ahead gave her pause. It was a cop car, heading in her direction. She knew that it wasn't coming for her; there was no way it could have been. But old habits die hard and she found herself stepping lightly into the next darkened alleyway. She moved around a recycling dumpster and oh so gently pressed her back up against the cool stone of the wall behind her. The lights flashed by, but she could hear another siren approaching from a distance. There must be an urgent call somewhere. At this time of night, it could be just about anything. As she waited for the next emergency vehicle to pass, she reached up and hugged herself, allowing a small grimace of pain to cross her face. Her backpack fell from her shoulder to her forearm and she whimpered a little as it banged into her hip where there must be more bruises forming. She wouldn't be moving much for the next few days. Closing her eyes, she thought about the warm bed waiting for her and the next five blocks seemed like an awful long way to walk.

The siren flashed by off to the left, but she found it was hard to get moving again. She would wait a few more minutes… just a few, before heading on her way. While she waited, she practiced taking deep breaths. It was getting easier, so she figured that she really didn't have to worry about broken ribs. Just bruising then, that was at least a good sign. X-rays _would_ have been nice, but there was only so much that Meredith could get away with before her boss started to ask questions. A quick look over and some pain pills were the best she could hope for right now.

Without even meaning to, she started to slowly slide down the wall until she was sitting up against it. The wet pavement soaked into the bottom of her jeans, but she really didn't care at this point. Even knowing that the pain would only be worse if she didn't get moving again quickly, all she could seem to do was lean her head back and breath in the night air. She didn't remember being hit on the head, but it was possible that she'd sustained a concussion. If that was the case, the worst thing she could do was sit there and rest, but she was _so tired…_

Her eyes still closed, Valkyrie contemplated what would happen if she just stayed right where she was for the time being. She wouldn't die, she was pretty sure. Her injuries didn't feel that bad. The worst that could happen would be that she would wake up incredibly sore in a few hours and it would take a tremendous amount of effort to get herself home. She hadn't slept in two days… not uncommon for her. She could go at least three before starting to wear down. Of course, she usually didn't take a beating like this on little sleep. The combination was not good.

In the end, she decided that ten minutes wouldn't kill her. She breathed deep again and let the time pass.

* * *

Leonardo was not in the best of moods tonight. Thoughts of his father had been on his mind too often recently and it was starting to take a toll. He perched on the ledge of a darkened abandoned building, his thumb under his chin and one finger gently rubbing the corner of his mouth in quiet contemplation. He looked out at the city without seeing it, his mind elsewhere. Silently, he wondered if his brothers had started to think, as he did, of Splinter more as 'father' these days than they did as 'master' or 'sensei'. He and Donatello had talked quietly about it a few times, but neither liked to dwell on the topic. The kind old rat was slowing down. They'd all seen it, but if Mikey and Raph were at all worried, they never mentioned it. Raphael, it seemed, even went out of his way to _not_ talk about it. The truth was, though, their father was spending more time in his room than he was training them. Over the past few years, the turtles had taken over their own training to some degree, with Splinter only giving advice here and there. But even that was starting to fade.

Donatello, ever the logical scientist, couldn't help but point out to Leo that while they were turtles, creatures known to live well over a hundred years, most normal rats usually only lived three to five. And considering that it had been nearly twenty-five years since they'd mutated, Splinter had already greatly surpassed reasonable age expectations. Leo knew that Donatello thought he was being comforting, but it really only depressed him further. He did not want to think about losing his father. It wasn't like he wasn't still active; just… he was slowing down. That was all, but the thought was so sobering that Leo could think of little else these days.

Their father was the glue that held their little family tight, and Leo wasn't entirely sure that he could keep it together if Splinter passed away. Raphael would be the first gone; he knew that as sure as he knew his own name. He was already gone more often than he was home and Leo had begun to suspect that there was a girl involved. Mikey would stick around longer, but where Raph went, Mikey would soon follow. Michelangelo would never admit it, but he had always had a serious case of hero worship where Raph was concerned. Donatello would probably stay close to home. But then again… there were so many places his brainy brother had talked about wanting to see someday.

Leo closed his eyes and hung his head in the damp night air. In all likelihood, their father would be around for a few years more. It was not something he should be fretting over. Indeed, he wouldn't have even been thinking about it this seriously if he hadn't seen Splinter fumble a teacup in the kitchen that morning. The old rat had caught it before it broke, but just the fact that his hand had been shaking that much… that he'd nearly lost the little cup… Leo's heart sank and he tried to push the thoughts from his mind. There was nothing to do but go on living and enjoy every moment they still had with their father. It was easier said than done though.

Taking deep breaths and slowly coming back to himself, Leo began to take in his surroundings once again. He was looking out onto a small street filled with mostly closed shops. Every once in a while someone passed by below, but there were very few people out at this time of night. Most of those people were probably up to no good. He was finding it harder and harder to care these days about the people of this city. Their problems seemed so small compared to his concerns for his father… but he had taken a silent oath to protect those out there that couldn't protect themselves, and it was an oath he would see done until his own dying day.

His eyes swept out all around, trying to decide what direction his patrol would take tonight. More often these days he was going out by himself; trying to gather up his brothers for a group patrol was like pulling teeth. He had just decided to start out to the west when he caught sight of the small figure huddled down in the ally below him. He watched her for a moment, trying to decide if she was even alive. It wasn't the first time Leo or one of his brothers found the body of a young woman and it wouldn't be the last. If she was dead, there was nothing he could do for her but call in a tip to the police. His eyes narrowed and he watched for another minute until he was sure that he'd seen the slight rise and fall of her breast. She was alive then.

He swiftly jumped off the roof, catching the iron grates of the windows on the side of the building. He'd used them before, they were sturdy and silent. With cat-like movements, he hopped from one to the other, making his way down as fast as possible. The woman was not bleeding, he was sure. He would have smelled it, being this close now. Keeping to the shadows once he hit the ground, Leo made his way toward her. She looked young, and very small. But it might have just been the way she was curled up against the wall, holding her stomach. A small backpack sat on the ground next to her, her arm still threaded through its' strap. In the dark of the night, her hair looked chocolate brown and her head bobbed slightly as if she were trying not to nod off.

"Miss?" he said softly.

* * *

The voice startled her out of a swimming dark, and she looked up quickly. Blinking her eyes, all Valkyrie could see was a dark shape about ten feet away. With a start she realized that she'd been sitting there longer than she'd anticipated. Her joints seemed to be much too stiff for just a quick rest. Looking around at the night sky and trying to gauge by how the lights and noise had died down on the nearby street, she guessed she must have been sitting there for at least two hours.

"Miss?" the voice asked again. "Are you hurt?" She concentrated on the words; the cadence and the tone. How quickly they'd been spoken, how softly. Either he was a fantastic liar, or it was genuine concern in his voice.

"No… I mean… yes." With lightening fast mental reflexes, the Valkyrie sifted through all the personalities she'd perfected over her lifetime and pulled out the one that seemed to be fit the circumstances the best. "I'll be fine." She grimaced as she stretched her legs and found the pain that jolted through her to be just barely tolerable. Her chest was sure to hurt more than that, so she'd have to take it slow getting up.

"Do you need help?" The voice was male. And kind. There was nothing about this man that set her on edge yet, so she decided that she could spare a few minutes of polite chitchat before going on her way.

Letting a small laugh slide into her words, she smiled sheepishly in the dark, not knowing if he could even see her face. "No, thank you. I'm just a little sore tonight." She moved a little and winced as if to prove her point. "I was in a car accident yesterday. But it's not too bad." Taking a deep breath, she forced herself not to react too much as she slowly pushed herself up the wall until she was finally leaning against it, standing this time. The pain was amazing. She was almost surprised she didn't black out from the intensity. Those pills sure would come in handy tonight.

"Are you sure you should be moving?" The concern in his voice was so intense that she found it endearing. No one had shown that much concern for her in a very long time. Even Marty and Meredith, who she considered sort-of friends, were not as heart-felt as this man seemed to be.

"I'll be fine." She repeated and took another deep breath. "I knew I shouldn't have been out walking, but I had to go pick up my prescription before the drug store closed for the night… I honestly thought I could make it." She laughed lightly again and shook her head, even though it sent a shock of agony down her neck. "Stupid, I know… I guess the doctors say 'bedrest' for a reason." The lies slid from her mouth so easily; there was barely any thought involved.

"Is there anything I can do for you? I can call you a cab if you would like." The man had still not emerged from the shadow, and it made her start to feel just a tad uneasy. She was not at her best at the moment, and should it turn out he really didn't have her wellbeing in mind, then she would be in a world of hurt. Well… a world of _more_ hurt.

"No, no. It's okay. I just need a minute. I don't live too far from here." Naïve and trusting, she smiled sweetly in his direction. This persona could play the innocent victim very well. There was absolutely no way she was going to walk out of this alley with him at her back, though. She had to convince him to leave first, and then she'd trail him for a bit to make sure he was really leaving. If he decided to follow her, then she'd have to think of something else. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine now. I just needed a bit of breather before going the rest of the way."

"You should be more careful... There's a lot of bad people around here." As if on cue, there was a raucous laugh from the street as a group of questionable young men passed by on the sidewalk.

"Oh believe me, I know." She shrugged lightly, ignoring the jolt of pain. "I really didn't mean to sit here this long… I just needed a quick rest." She bit her lip and smiled again, more shyly this time. "I'll be fine, really. You don't need to wait here for me. I'll be on my way in a minute or two."

There was a shuffle in the darkness, but he still did not come closer. "You look like you're in a lot of pain… are you sure I can't call you a cab?"

"Oh no, it's okay. I spent all my cash on my prescription." Another lie. She had a stack of bills in her backpack that would have paid for a trip halfway across the country. It was just better not to take a cab. Cabbies these days tended to have on-board cameras and she preferred to avoid those at all costs. At least when she was going to or coming from a job.

The shadowed figure seemed very hesitant to leave her. She wondered if this guy figured himself some sort of anonymous hero or something. Rescuing the poor little damsel in distress. He had no idea just how much she didn't need his help. It was starting to piss her off that he wouldn't just leave. She didn't think he had plans to jump her. If that had been his intention than he would have done it already, when she'd been caught off-guard.

"Look… this isn't the best neighborhood… I'd really like to make sure you get home safely."

She let her smile falter and then slid some uneasiness into her face. Perhaps a little more than was necessary, but she wanted this guy to get the hint that she was starting to get weary of him. He must have caught it easily though because the figure took a step back.

"I'm sorry, miss. I don't mean to scare you, I'm just worried. You don't seem to be in the best state."

"Who… who are you?" She really didn't give a crap who he was, but the persona she was affecting would have been curious.

* * *

Leo wasn't quite sure how to answer the question. He couldn't just show her what he was… people tended to not react well when that happened. But there was something about this girl… something he couldn't quite put a finger on. She seemed so… naïve, maybe? Like she didn't know the real dangers that were lurking out in the dark night of the city. She was obviously in a lot of pain and had to have been desperate for a rest if she stepped into an alley like this one to take it. She looked stiff and sore, sure signs that she'd been sitting there much longer than she'd meant to. Leo chided himself for not having noticed her down there sooner. His mind hadn't been where it should have been, and this girl could have died because of his failure to observe his surroundings.

"I'm just a concerned… friend." He had been meaning to say _'citizen'_, but for some reason this woman just looked like she needed a friend right now. She looked so lost and alone. Though she might have been naïve to some things, she obviously had enough sense to be weary of strange men in dark alleys.

"I… thankyou." She seemed unsure of what to say next. In an almost protective gesture, the girl lifted her backpack up over her shoulder and took a tentative step away from the wall. A few strands of loose hair gently lifted in the night breeze and brushed over her face and Leo felt his heart speed up just a bit. What was it that was so intriguing about this woman? She could have been anyone passing on the street, and he never would have noticed her, so why did he feel as if she were something special? Part of his mind told him that he was merely looking for a distraction from thoughts of his father's health. She just seemed so fragile…

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable." She had said she was fine, he should just let it go at that. He could always follow her home undetected if he wanted to, although the thought turned his stomach. He shouldn't sneak around after her like a stalker. That would have been something more Raphael's style. It wasn't gentlemanly. But he didn't want her to be unprotected, either. She seemed just as unsure of the situation as he felt and Leo almost smiled to himself. What a pair they must have made, standing there uncomfortably together.

"No, no, it's fine." She laughed nervously. "Like you said… this isn't the best neighborhood. You seem nice and all." In spite of the words though, she inched gingerly around the recycling dumpster and toward the street, but never turning away from him. He couldn't blame her for the caution; he'd have wondered about her sanity had she just turned her back on a strange man in the shadows.

"Wait, please." She froze in her place and he silently scolded himself for sounding so forceful. "I know you don't have a reason to trust me… but I'd really like to see you home safely."

She bit her lip, and he could see her mulling over the idea in her head. The woman wanted to say no… he could see it in her eyes. But at the same time… it almost seemed like she didn't want to be rude. "I… I don't know you."

"I promise, I'll leave as soon as I see you're inside safely. You won't even know I'm there." He clenched his jaw a little, wishing not for the first time that he looked just a little more human. "I'm not good with people… I'll follow at a distance, just to make sure no one bothers you."

Half of him wished the girl would refuse. It would show that she had a lot more common sense than he thought. The other half knew that if she was trusting enough to let a stranger follow her home, then she definitely needed protecting.

"My name is Leonardo." He said gently.

* * *

Thoughts were racing through her mind. There was _definitely_ something off about this person. She wasn't really worried about him knowing where she lived. She wouldn't be there much longer anyway. It was about time for a change of scenery anyway, and there was a nice little apartment for rent that she'd had her eye on in a more decent part of the city. Anything to let her get home faster at this point was worth it. In all likelihood, this guy was just a good Samaritan and she had nothing to worry about. She'd probably never see him again. Hell, she hadn't even seen him this time. The more he stayed in shadows, the more she thought perhaps he was horribly disfigured or something. It wouldn't be the first time she'd met someone like that. An outcast who liked to help people without being seen. It actually happened a lot more than most people realized. She sighed and gave in.

"My name… is Emi." It wasn't. It just happened to be the name she was using at the moment. It was the name on the little mailbox at her apartment building. She'd grown rather fond of it, actually. Perhaps when she retired from the life she'd built, 'Emi' would be the name she settled down with.

"Hello, Emi." The way he said it, so soft and smooth, made her uneasy. He almost seemed to savor the feel of it rolling off his tongue, committing it to memory. She didn't like that. Emi didn't want to be remembered. Taking one of the biggest risks she could remember in the recent past, the Valkyrie turned her back to the shadowed figure.

"It's only a few blocks from here… if you want to walk with me… I wouldn't mind, I suppose." She tensed a little as she looked over her shoulder, part in pain, part in apprehension.

"No… but I'll be watching out for you. It was nice to meet you, Emi."

She paused then and tried to peer through the darkness one last time. Still, there was nothing of him that she could make out other than a shapeless form. "It was nice to meet you too, Leonardo."

The entire rest of the walk home, the pain kept her from taking in as much as she could of her surroundings. She tried to make small obvious movements, as if she was looking for him. She _was_ looking for him, but she also wanted him to know that she was looking for him. So far there had been no sign of him, and that made her very very nervous. If he was that good at keeping out of her sight, then he was probably very perceptive of her movements. He'd be expecting her to be looking for him, and she would not disappoint. Besides, the person she wanted him to see could get very jittery when she wasn't feeling safe and Emi wanted him to think she didn't feel safe. Anything to keep him from noticing that she wasn't what she was presenting to him.

At the entrance to the small run-down apartment building, she stopped and waiting, not really expecting Leonardo to show himself. He did not appear after a few minutes, but she was sure that he was watching her. She just had a feeling… With a nervous gesture that wasn't entirely an act, she lifted a hand to wave at no one then held it to her chest as if offering a silent thank you. One last glance around, and Emi went inside, her thoughts no longer focused on sleep.

* * *

When she checked her mailbox the next day, there was a small note slipped in among the advertisements and bills. For a shy, disfigured outcast, his penmanship was quite remarkable.

_I apologize again if I startled you last night. You seemed to be in such pain, I couldn't help but feel concern for you. I would very much like to speak with you again and find out how you are getting along. I know of some herbal teas and balms that can help ease the pain of your injuries. If I do not hear from you, I promise that I will not seek you out again. It was a pleasure to meet you, Emi. I hope that I will see you again someday. _

_-Leonardo_

There was a phone number included and Emi stood there looking at it for quite a while before going back upstairs. She had not been this intrigued by someone in a very long time. She still wasn't sure if she should be excited or worried. In her business, it was good to make connections and one as skilled as he obviously was could come in handy in the long run. Perhaps he would be able to get into places that a young woman such as her could not. A lot of the seedy underbelly of the city was not welcoming to a girl, no matter how much of a reputation she had. Emi decided she would wait at least another day before calling the number. Even if he did not turn out to be someone she wanted as a friend, outcasts were excellent resources in her world. Just knowing him might prove to be useful someday.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Wow. This chapter went waaaaaay longer than I'd intended. I'm not sure if I'll go more into the past, or pick up from where the 2nd chapter left off… Any thoughts? C'mon people, leave reviews! :) Reviews are like the nectar of the gods for us authors.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Leo or the turtles. Just Emi.

**Author's Notes: **Well, I'm going to keep writing this, even if I didn't get much response to the last chapter. I might cut it shorter than I would have, just so I'm not writing to an empty crowd, but I definitely want to finish it, if only for myself. Hopefully those few of you that are reading will enjoy it as well.

Also: Apologies for the short chapter. I'm very busy at the moment and it's hard to find any time at all to write.

* * *

**Regret **– Chapter 4

* * *

_Present_

* * *

Leonardo sat for a very long time on the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse about seven or eight blocks from Emi's apartment. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to go back to her; to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay. They could get through this, and when all was said and done, they loved each other. He and his brothers could help her change. She didn't have to be the woman he'd seen that day. She could be that other woman, the Emi he loved. It couldn't have all been a lie. No one was that good… no one could just turn it on and off like that. He'd spent the better part of three years by her side and there was no way it had all been a masquerade. He desperately wanted to believe that the assassin was the lie. It was someone she thought she had to be, but not who she really was. There was no other explanation that would satisfy him.

A horn blared on the street below and someone cried out in surprise, but he barely heard it. He closed his eyes and sighed, memories flashing through his mind. She had to have loved him. She had said she did, not more than a couple hours ago. He'd seen Emi's eyes and knew that she was hurt and surprised when he'd confronted her…. Or had she been? It was all so confusing. His world had been turned upside down and he was fighting to right it again in his mind. Nothing made sense anymore. The only thing he knew for sure was that he still loved her. And he wouldn't lose her without a fight. Determined to help her, but still unsure of how, he slowly made his way back to the fire escape he'd only recently left.

The apartment was dark, and Leo cursed himself when he realized what it meant. He should have known… he should have realized she wouldn't stay even though she'd promised she would. Even in the dark, he could see well enough to know that she hadn't taken much… but what she had taken spoke volumes. A small flame of hope leapt through him as he looked at everything that wasn't there. Everything personal had been removed. Every gift he'd given her had been taken from the shelves and counters.

The apartment was still furnished… there were still dishes in the sink. But everything that was Emi was gone. He could feel it more than anything. A quick search of the bedroom and bathroom showed that she had left behind most of her clothes and toiletries… but the feeling of her was gone. She'd even taken his favorite picture from the dresser. He wished she hadn't… Leo had precious few pictures of her, and that one had been special; one he'd taken himself.

The muscle on the side of his jaw tightened as he searched through drawers and cabinets. There was nothing that would even begin to hint at where she'd gone. There were no personal papers, no address books… Her laptop was gone as well. Leonardo had always just put her cleanliness and inability to let clutter accumulate to a personality trait, but seeing the apartment with unveiled eyes he realized that it had always been planned this way… Emi could have been gone at a moments' notice… and he never would have been prepared for it. She was good. She was very good.

Knowing that she wouldn't answer, he pulled the cell from his belt and called her number. It didn't even ring before going to voicemail. She had it turned off then... That was fine. He still had other ways of trying to track her down. She might have been good, but he was determined to find her and no one knew this city better than he and his brothers.

"I will find you." He vowed to the empty apartment.

* * *

Emi sat on a park bench in the dark, letting her mind wander. She still thought of herself as Emi, which was strange. She'd never kept a name for so long before and it felt awkward to try to think of herself as Valkyrie once more. It had been her name up until three years ago. Now it was more a nickname than anything else. Furrowing her brow, Emi tried to remember who she'd been before Leo. Her memory was excellent and yet the picture of who she'd been eluded her. It wasn't that she'd forgotten… just… there hadn't been anything. Did she have any hobbies? Skills? Things she enjoyed just for fun that had nothing to do with tracking and killing people? No. Not that she could remember.

She'd learned how to do things, of course. She'd taken up knitting during a job once, and had actually been rather good at it. But after the job it had been dropped and she hadn't thought about a knit or a purl stitch since then. There was a half-finished sweater sitting in a storage facility in New Mexico, she remembered wistfully. She'd also tried her hand at painting once, on another job. That endeavor had been much less successful and eventually dropped as well. Her wretched excuse for art now sat in a dusty attic in Ohio. She'd learned to swing dance which had come in handy a few times… but she'd never gone dancing for fun. She exercised out of necessity, but never played sports for enjoyment. A man walked by on a lit path in the distance, a large Rottweiler on a sturdy leash trotting at his side. Emi bit her lip as she watched the animal move and wondered what it would be like to have a pet. She'd never owned so much as a goldfish.

The Valkyrie did not cry. The Valkyrie rarely showed emotions other than regret. Tears were out of the question. Should word get around that one of the best assassins in the city broke down sobbing on a regular basis then her work would dry up in a heartbeat. But Emi… Emi did not follow those rules. She did not sob or shudder in sadness, but tears found their way down her cheeks and dropped to soak the collar of her blouse.

She could hear the boy approaching long before she looked up to see him. He couldn't have been older than seventeen, but had somehow acquired enough metal in his face to vaguely resemble a pin cushion. His hair was long and greasy; his body lean but muscled. Emi knew he was eying the duffle bag sitting next to her as he neared and every movement in his gait told her he was going to try to grab it. Though the tears still ran down her face she shook her head and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Don't." She stated simply, just loud enough for him to hear. Something in her face must have startled him into some sense because his step slowed and he seemed to be rethinking his options. Emi lightly reached down and took up the handle of the bag. "You really don't want a part of this. It won't end well for you."

The boy seemed to show more brains than she would have thought and he sidestepped the bench and hurried past, only looking back at her once with a wary glance.

'_When did I become this?'_ she asked herself silently. _'Who the hell am I?'_

Leonardo had taken her bowling once. He and his brothers had saved the life of the owner of the bowling alley and as a gesture of thanks the man occasionally let them use the ally after closing. The woman she'd been playing had been surprised and delighted the night he took her there. Now she wondered if it had really been a play, or if she really had enjoyed it. She and the four turtles had bowled late into the night, and it had been fun. They'd talked about going back, but had never found the time. Now, the thought saddened her. With a depressed sigh Emi realized she would have liked to have gone back. Of course, she could always go bowling on her own… but without Leo, it just didn't sound like any fun.

They'd gone to free outdoor concerts and sat together on an old wool blanket. Listening from the darkened woods beyond the stage, it was easy to pretend the music was being played just for them. It was the first time she'd sat and listened to music just for the sake of listening.

'_I want to be Emi'_ she thought. It was almost ludicrous, this idea that she was jealous of herself. But there it was… she wanted desperately to be Emi; yet she knew that it could never be. She couldn't just drop everything she'd been; everything she'd done. There was no redemption for her at the end of the road. The Valkyrie had learned long ago that when her days were done, she would die alone. There was a special place in hell reserved for people like her. It didn't matter how kind she was, no matter what religion you believed in, killing people for money was just wrong. At least when someone killed in the heat of passionate rage it was understandable. Even forgivable. No one would ever grant her forgiveness and she didn't want it anyway. She answered to no one but herself, and the Valkyrie had damned herself long ago.

Leonardo was wrong. He couldn't help her. No one could.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Well, again, sorry for the short chapter. I'm in the process of moving and trying to get back into my art again. There's so much stuff going on right now, the next chapter might take a while. Let me know what you thought, good or bad. I'd like to hear it all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Leo or the turtles. Just Emi.

**Author's Notes: **Thank you so much for the reviews! They really help me continue on with this story.

I wasn't quite sure which version of April was going to be in this story, but I've finally decided on giving her the journalist background. It's the one I grew up with, and has some nostalgic qualities for me. She only gets a brief mention in this chapter, but I thought I'd specify for anyone wondering.

* * *

**Regret **– Chapter 5

* * *

His brothers did not know that he'd gone to Emi's apartment with an engagement ring that night. They knew he had one, but Leo just didn't feel it was their business to know the exact details of when or where he was going to propose. Raphael knew the subject made him uncomfortable and that was probably why he liked to remind him of it every chance he could get. At least once a week, Raph would casually ask if she'd rejected him yet. His brother seemed to find the idea of marriage, real or not, to be a constant source of amusement. Leonardo was pretty sure that Raphael didn't actually think Emi would say no, but anything that would annoy Leo was a good enough reason for him to comment on it. For this reason alone, Leo was thankful that his brother wasn't around when he returned to their underground home. He wasn't quite sure what his reaction would be if Raph mentioned Emi tonight.

He wasn't even sure if he was going to tell them what had happened right away. Leo was desperate for his brothers' help. Donatello and Raphael both had resources that he did not; friends and contacts via both the internet and the seedier parts of the city. Mikey… well, Mikey probably wouldn't be much help, other than to lend a friendly ear. It was not often that Leonardo felt shame, but tonight he did. Of all of them, Raphael should have been the one to fall in with someone less than reputable. He'd done it in the past, although not to this extent. What would his brothers say when they found out that Leo, the responsible one… the one who tried to be perfect… the one who did not often make mistakes… had fallen in love with an assassin and never even known it. That was the worst part. If he'd known what she was and still fallen for her, at least that would have been understandable. But the fact he hadn't seen what she was? Raphael would never let him live it down once he found out. In a few short hours, his instincts and reputation had been called into question. And his brothers would have every right to question him after this. Leo just didn't know how he would be able to look them in the eyes ever again. He decided that he would put it off just a little bit longer, still needing some more time to think things through and work out a plan on how to find Emi.

He could hear the distant clicking of Donatello's keyboard and actively avoiding going in the direction of his brother's lab. As brainy as he was, Donatello was excellent at picking up emotions and he would avoid the possibility of being called out for now. Leo made his way to the kitchen and noticed the tea kettle still steaming in the middle of their sometimes-working stove. Michelangelo had just made tea for their father then. It was just about that time of the evening he noted, looking at the clock. Splinter no longer made tea for himself… he no longer did a lot of things for himself.

Leo knew that no matter what he ended up telling his brothers, he would not tell his father what had happened. Even if Splinter was awake and lucid enough to remember who Emi was, he did not need the stress of knowing what his eldest son had done. The old rat's mind was slowing down faster than any of them had thought possible. Leo blinked his eyes and willed himself not to tear up. It had been easy not to think about it when he was away from their home, but every time he returned the cold harsh truth slammed back into him. His father was always on the back of his mind, but when he was with Emi it was easier to handle. Her smile, her laugh… the way she bit the side of her bottom lip and shrugged her shoulders when she blushed in embarrassment… She had made everything so much more bearable. She had been perfect; everything he wanted and needed her to be. And it made the sting of her betrayal that much more painful. Lies. All lies to deceive and placate him. To keep him wanting, loving, and needing her.

Running one hand over his head and placing the other on the counter for support, Leo felt the weight of the day pressing down on him. How could he feel as if his world would never be the same, yet also feel that he was right back to where he was before he'd met Emi?

"Hey, dude." Mikey's voice behind him startled him out of his morose reverie, and Leo turned to face his younger brother. Mikey had changed… he'd grown up. The young mischievous turtle they'd all loved was still there, but there was a newfound wisdom behind his eyes now. When Splinter had taken a turn for the worse almost two years before, Michelangelo had taken up the responsibility of caring for him almost all on his own. He cooked their father's food, made his tea, cleaned his room and helped him to the bathroom. He had become nurse and maid and everything else that Splinter needed. When the old rat's eyes had started to fail, Mikey's eyes read the words that Splinter's could not. He spent hours each day reading to their father, sometimes the same book over and over when he couldn't remember it from the day before. And he did it all with a smile on his face. Leo felt another wave of shame wash over him; he knew that he would never have been able to do what Mikey did. Not without breaking down each night in a fit of despair.

"Hey. How is he?" Every time he came home, he expected to hear the worst, but Mikey's answer was always the same.

"He's doing." Mikey grinned at him and started pulling some cans of soup from one of the cupboards. "Actually, he's doing pretty good today. He was asking about April and when she's coming back to New York." He turned to face Leo with a jovial expression on his face. "Y'know, I think that herbal tea Donnie found is working. His memory seems to be getting better!"

Leo didn't have the heart to remind him that they'd had that conversation before. They'd tried several different herbal mixtures and every time their father had a good day, Michelangelo would proclaim the latest one a success. A bad day was usually soon to follow, though Mikey took those in stride just as if Splinter had always been forgetting what year it was, or how old his sons were.

"That's good." Leo heard himself say.

"Totally. I called April and she talked to Splinter for awhile. Told him she'd be back home in a week or two. She's working on a story out in California."

"I thought she was on vacation?" He asked absently.

"Oh yah. Well, you know April."

Leo murmured an agreement and then stood silently, leaning against the counter as his brother hummed to himself while heating up the soup. He almost wished she was home so he could talk to her first about his problem. As a woman, she might have more insight than his brothers into what was in Emi's head. Not that April made it a habit of hanging around with contract killers but it wouldn't hurt to ask her opinion. He knew that she wouldn't judge him; only listen, sympathize, and then offer an extremely longwinded opinion on what he needed to do.

"You should go talk to him." There was no accusation or implied meaning in his words, but Leo felt as if he had disappointed Mikey all the same. His brother continued to hum a meaningless tune that only he could hear as he stirred the soup on the stovetop. His body twitched with an almost invisible dance that went along with the song and Leo wondered how his brother could be even the slightest bit happy. There didn't seem to be anything in the world that held any sort of joy or amusement at the moment. Self-pity was not something he indulged in regularly, but tonight just was not going his way.

"I sat with him all morning. He probably just wants to rest." The words sounded pitiful to his ears and he almost cringed when Mike glanced in his direction.

"Dude, he's always happy to see you. And he'll be up until the soup is done."

"How do you do it?" The question was out of Leo's mouth before he even realized he was going to speak.

"What?" Michelangelo raised an eyeridge in asking, but didn't stop stirring the pot. A moment of silence passed as Leo tried to think of a way to take back the question. When Leo didn't repeat himself, the younger turtle gave the soup a contemplative look. "Bro, I know you're a horrible cook, but do I really need to explain how to heat a can of soup?"

"No…" He looked away, not able to meet his brother's eyes again. Leo didn't want to show weakness and ask again, but he desperately needed to know the answer. Perhaps his brother really did know something that he, for all his years of study and meditation, did not. "How do you deal with it?" His words turned almost angry as they spilled out. "How can you just be so casual about everything?" He pushed off of the counter and stalked over to the kitchen table and leaned down on it for support. Leo closed his eyes and tried not to let his voice rise too loud. He wasn't mad at Mikey, but he just didn't understand. "He's dying and there's nothing we can do about it. Everything is falling apart so how can you just smile and nod and keep going as if it will all be fine?" Leo spat the last words out and let out a harsh breath. He felt like a coward, speaking so roughly to his brother, but everything was just crumbling around him and he didn't know what to do. His shoulders shook with the tension he'd been holding in all evening.

There was silence in the kitchen except for the sound of the pot of soup being removed from the burner. He heard the small click of the dial on the back of the stove, followed by the light tap of the spoon being laid on the counter. A knot formed in his stomach the longer that Michelangelo didn't respond. He swallowed back his tears and shame and regrets and was just about to apologize when Mikey's arms wrapped around him from behind.

He froze, unsure at first if his brother was trying to comfort him or throw him to the ground. After a moment, Mikey just squeezed him tightly and stepped back again. Leo felt his brother lightly thump his shoulder affectionately and only then did he lift his head in the bright harsh glare of the kitchen.

"Because," Mikey's voice was lighter than he would have thought possible, "someone has to be the responsible one."

* * *

"Good evening, Father." Leonardo somehow felt more sure of himself as he set down the bowl of soup on the bed tray that already held an empty tea cup. The darkened room smelled of incense and leather; old parchment and exotic herbs. It was a comforting smell, one that would always remind him of his childhood. Mikey's words in the kitchen provided no insight into how he was able to handle the stress and pain, and yet they had made him feel better; even if they had been a slap in the face. A slap in the face that he had sorely needed. Leo wondered for the first time if it was possible he was losing his mind and hadn't realized it. Where had he been the last few years while Mikey had become an adult? He was so proud of his little brother on one hand, and on the other it stung to realize that Mikey hadn't become who he was because of something Leo had done. It was more due to Leo's inability to step up and be what the family needed that Mikey had taken his place. It had happened without him even seeing it. It was a horrible realization that in his effort to try to balance a life with his family and a life with Emi, he'd ended up failing at both.

That would all change tonight. Tonight he would start doing what he should have been doing all along. He would spend the time with his father and not think only of the things Splinter could not do anymore. Leo would not spend his time worrying about what would happen to the old rat tomorrow and instead enjoy today. He would again be the son that he had once been. As Raphael would put it, he was going to pull up his big boy pants and just deal with it instead of _worrying _about dealing with it.

And tomorrow… tomorrow he would begin his search for Emi. She was wrong; people could change. But if she wasn't strong enough… if the assassin was really who she thought she had to be… No, he wouldn't think on what would need to be done if she wouldn't stop killing. That bridge would either be crossed or burned when he came to it. Tonight, he would be here for his father.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Hmmm…. I don't know if I'm happy with this chapter. Opinions? Thoughts? Favorite ice cream flavor? I'm partial to Black Walnut. Hard to find, but oh-so-worth it. …I need sleep. So anyway, you guys know that drill. Please please please send in those reviews.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Leo or the turtles. Just Emi.

**Author's Notes: **Having a hard time feeling this story anymore. I think that the plot makes more sense in my head, and I just can't get it out the way I want. I apologize if Leo seemed OOC in previous chapters. I'll work on that.

LOTS of backstory in this chapter. Entire chapter is flashback. Uhg. I have no idea what I'm doing anymore. Oh. And we finally learn Emi's real name.

* * *

**Regret **– Chapter 6

* * *

_**Twenty-one years ago**_

It was quiet in their underground lair. The sounds of the busy city above never could penetrate all the layers of concrete, ductwork, and insulation that made up the underbelly of the city. It was peaceful down here, in the dark dank sewers where they'd made their home. Still… tonight it seemed quiet. Much too quiet for a home that had four energetic children running around. Splinter was unsure if they were so rowdy because of their mutation or if all seven-year-olds were that noisy and raucous. He searched the rooms one by one until he found what he was looking for. Standing far back in the shadows where he could observe his young sons without being seen, Splinter smiled to himself as he tried to understand the game they seemed to be playing.

Leonardo stood in the center of the large room that served as their dojo. Two jump ropes had been stretched and circled end to end so they formed a large ring around him. Balancing on one leg, he held a small makeshift bo staff in his hands. Splinter squinted his eyes and peered intently at it for a few moments until he decided that yes, it really was the shower curtain rod. He had to fight a smile as he told himself that the boys had at least followed the house rule of no handling weapons while their father was out of the room. Spread around the circle was a large number of odd items. Stuffed animals, the tv guide magazine, an empty soda can, pillows, an alarm clock… and many other random things. It was an odd sort of mockery of the training they had had this morning. Splinter had had the boys defending themselves with a staff, while tossing small beanbags at them. Their coordination was becoming exceptional; Donatello was showing the most potential with the bo though.

Splinter crossed his arms and leaned against the cool brick wall as Michelangelo looked over the items thoughtfully. He finally leaned down and picked up a rubber duck. Mikey looked at his brother for a long moment before winding back like a pitcher on those baseball games the boys were fond of, and let it fly at his brother's head. Leo easily deflected the duck and it went sailing off into a dark corner. Mikey groaned quietly and hung his head. Donatello seemed to be up next and he carefully chose a bottle of shampoo. Raising one eyebrow, Splinter hoped the cap was on tightly. If not, his sons would be up the rest of the night cleaning the floors in the dojo. The bottle went sailing through the air, and again, it was deflected. It didn't fly as far though, only landing a few feet outside of the jump rope ring. And thankfully, it did not break open.

Raphael's turn was next and he didn't hesitate before reaching for a softball that had already been sitting at his feet. Splinter pondered stopping the game before anything was broken, but decided that his children still occasionally needed to learn the consequences of their actions. There was nothing in the room that could not be fixed or replaced if broken, it just might take time to do so. Raphael tossed the ball straight up a couple times as if to get a feel for the weight, then chucked it at his brother with ease. Leo nearly didn't move fast enough. The curtain rod just barely tapped the bottom of the softball and sent it flying up and over his shoulder. Leo flinched and almost lost his balance, and his brothers seemed to hold a collective breath as he very nearly toppled backwards. At the last possible second though, he balanced himself and managed to stay on one leg. Raphael groaned and let out an "Oh, c'mon!"

The softball bounced harmlessly off a back wall and rolled off somewhere unknown.

"My turn again!" Michelangelo proclaimed and tapped a finger on his chin as if making a very hard decision. When he finally reached down and picked up a fragile teacup from the set sitting near the doorway, Splinter decided that it might just be time to step in. He was rather fond of that tea set.

"Boys." He approached the entrance to the dojo and had to keep himself from letting a laugh slide out when they all nearly jumped in surprise. Mikey dropped the teacup and Splinter flinched as it fell, but thankfully did not break.

"Sensei!" they declared in unison. The three would-be pitchers immediately lined up and bowed their heads. Leonardo let his leg drop to the ground lightly, then leaned down and placed the curtain rod on the floor. With a slight bit of unease, he hurried over to join his brothers and bowed his head as well.

"I did not realize that you were so eager to train this evening. Has the television set broken again?" There were little furtive glances between the four young turtles, but none of them spoke up immediately. Leonardo had been quiet all afternoon, and it was unusual for him to hesitate to speak up first.

"No, Sensei." He finally answered. "We are sorry."

"Sorry? Do you think that I am upset?" The boys glanced at each other again then up at their father. "Is there a reason I _should_ be upset?"

They shook their heads quickly and Donatello spoke up next. "It's just… We were going to clean up the mess, Father."

"I should hope so." He looked around the dojo once more and shook his head affectionately. "Is there a reason why you felt you needed to practice this morning's lessons further?"

"It was Leo's idea." Mikey offered up helpfully. "He wanted to train more and he said we could throw stuff at him!"

Leonardo's face seemed to turn a shade darker, as if embarrassed, but couldn't say anything before Raphael spoke up as well. "It was just a game to see who could unbalance him first."

"Yah." Donatello chimed in. "Whoever made him put his foot down first doesn't have to do dishes for a week! We all agreed!"

Splinter nodded. "I see. That doesn't seem fair to Leonardo, though."

"I wasn't going to lose my balance." Leo finally said defensively. "If I keep one foot in the air, then I win."

"And he wouldn't have to do dishes! So it's all fair, really!" Michelangelo eagerly agreed.

"I see." Splinter looked them all over for another moment then smiled. "It is getting close to bedtime. This game can wait until tomorrow, if you insist on playing it. I expect this mess to be cleaned up and the four of you asleep within the hour. Is that understood?" They all nodded, but Leo seemed a bit crestfallen to have to quit the training game so soon. Splinter was just about to turn to go when he paused. "And one more thing. Please do not use my teacups for your practice. All dishes and plates will stay in the kitchen as well." He gave them a pointed look and they had the good graces to look ashamed.

"Yes, Sensei."

* * *

Before the turtles climbed into their beds for the night, he pulled Leonardo aside and asked the young turtle to join him in his room. Leo followed obediently and sat down on the floor next his father. Splinter lit a couple candles that were sitting on a little table and smiled. "Would you like to talk about it, my son?"

"I… talk about what?" Leonardo bit his lip and looked down at his hands.

Placing a reassuring hand on his son's, Splinter sighed. He thought he knew what the problem was. "You have been quiet all day. Is this because Donatello bested you this morning?" When his son didn't answer, the older rat was sure he was right. "And so you talked your brothers into helping you train by tempting them with a bribe?"

"Yes." Leo said quietly. "I just… I wanted…" The turtle sighed heavily.

"You wanted to improve your skills. And there is nothing wrong with that." He gently patted the Leo on the head and smiled as the turtle looked up finally. "You are more dedicated in your training than any of your brothers."

"And I should have done better this morning!"

"You did very well."

"But Donatello still beat me!" Leo looked so crestfallen, that Splinter wasn't sure that anything he could say would make the boy feel better.

"And you beat him yesterday. And the day before." And most days if they were to be completely honest.

"But-"

"You cannot always be the best, Leonardo." The little turtle gaped up at him, as if he couldn't believe that his father had said such a thing. "I shall let you in on a secret, my son." Splinter clasped his hands gently in his lap and cocked his head to one side as he looked at Leo. "No matter how much you train, no matter how hard… No matter how good you think you are, there will always be someone who can best you at something."

"But…" Leonardo wanted to argue, but he didn't seem to have the words.

"And that is why you must never stop pushing yourself. But when you _are_ bested, you must pick yourself up and move on." Splinter smiled and pointed to a drawing of a monkey hanging on the wall. "Michelangelo drew that for me. It is very good, is it not? He is very talented with a pencil and paper."

"Yah… I guess." Leo eyed the drawing suspiciously, trying to follow his father's train of thought.

"Donatello and Raphael are not as talented as he. But that does not bother them."

"That's different, Sensei! It's just a drawing."

"It is no different. You do not pout and whine that Michelangelo is more talented with a pencil. Why should you do so with Donatello and a bo staff?"

"But…"

Splinter sighed and shook his head. "You cannot be the master of everything, Leonardo. Accept that others will be more skilled that you in some things, and that you will be more skilled in others. It is just the way of things."

"I just… I don't want to disappoint you." Leo's voice was quiet.

"My son…" Splinter reached out once more and took a small green hand in his. "I am proud of you and I always will be. Never forget that."

* * *

_A few hours later and on the other edge of the country…_

Martin Page sat at his desk thumbing through some old files. They were destined for the shredder, but he was double checking for any last bit of information that may be of some use later. As he flicked a page over, his thumb caught the edge of a sheet and he cursed at the fine line of blood that appeared next to his dirty fingernail. He pulled a nearly exhausted cigarette from his lips and snubbed it out in the ashtray on the edge of the dark hardwood desk. Marty hefted his nearly two hundred pounds out of the rickety chair and walked over to the window sill and pulled out a tissue from the box sitting there. He held it to the small cut for a few moments while looking out the darkened window of his study. All day long the sky had been dark with storm clouds, and as the evening had turned to night, it had poured down sheets of rain that didn't seem to want to let up anytime soon. He could hear the _plink plink plink_ of the kitchen faucet even over the lightning and thunder, and the sound depressed him. He didn't want to be stuck in this little shithole house in a small coastal California town, but where Vinnie went, Marty went as well. With any luck they'd be packing up and moving back to New York by the end of the year.

Throwing the tissue into a wire wastebasket as he walked past, Marty left the small study and ventured through the house to the kitchen. He didn't bother turning on the light as he went to the sink and filled a small chipped mug with water. His apartment back in the city really wasn't in any better condition than this place, but at least he was more comfortable. The fresh salt air was almost sickening. He longed for the exhaust fumes and bad street food; the sounds of the city that never quite died away. The silence of this town even during the day almost drove him mad.

Marty gulped down the warm tap water and winced at the briny aftertaste. He left the mug sitting on the counter where it would be easy to reach later and turned to leave the kitchen. Pulling a pack from his pocket, Marty fished around for another cigarette. He was just about to walk through the open archway to the small living area when there was a bang on the glass door behind him. He whirled around, nerves instantly on edge. Vinnie had plenty of enemies that might come looking for his associates, and it was always a fear in the back of his mind that he'd be found out.

His heart stopped for a moment as he saw the ghost white shape silhouetted in the marbled glass. He'd been watching too many horror movies lately and his first thought was that a terrifying angel of death had finally come for him. Any second now it would break through the glass and send his pathetic excuse for a soul down to some unknown level of hell. But the thought went just as quickly as he heard a small voice scream his name.

"Marty!" The white robed visage pounded at the door again, and he realized with a start who it was. The pack of cigarettes dropped from his hand and he stumbled toward the door in the dark, nearly tripping over the small kitchen table on the way. He yanked the door open and saw the frightened face of young Mabel Remington.

"Mabel!" Marty pulled the wet girl inside, and glanced outside quickly before shutting the door again. She was alone, or seemed to be. The girl was crying and wiping raindrops from her eyelashes and he couldn't make out her words. Leading her through the kitchen, he flicked on the small lamp just inside the living room. It didn't give off much light, but it was enough to get a good look at the girl. Marty had thought she was about ten years old, give or take. Mabel had always seemed a clever girl, and he wasn't sure if she was young but smart for her age, or older and just really small. No matter, he'd always looked on her with kindness. Her father was left raising her alone, and he didn't always agree with how Frank had decided to bring up his daughter. No child, especially not a girl, should be raised in their line of work.

He took in her ragged appearance. Her thin white nightgown was soaked completely through and her hair was hanging in drenched ribbons around her face. Her eyes were reddened and wide and her lips trembled slightly as she sucked in breaths between sobs.

"Christ, girl… did you walk here in the rain?" He leaned over to the couch, an easy feat in a room so small, and pulled off a fraying red and black plaid blanket. He wrapped it around her shoulders and smoothed the hair back from her face. When she didn't reply, he pulled her into his arms awkwardly. He'd never been a parenting type, but the girl reminded him of his sister Kate, whom he hadn't seen in over a decade. Mabel looked a lot like her, with her pale skin and dark hair. Her eyes were brown instead of Kate's sea-green, but both had a large doe-like quality to them.

She shuddered against him for a moment or two before finally whispering, "They took him…"

Marty clenched his jaw and he silently cursed Frank yet again. "Your father?"

She nodded, her head still against his shoulder. Marty gently pulled her away and set her at arm's length. "Tell me what happened, Mabel. I know you're scared, but you have to tell me what happened. Vinnie and I can find him." He only half-hoped he was telling the truth. In the deep dark back of his mind, Marty was already planning what to do. If Frank was dead, then he would take the girl to his cousin's house up in Washington. She would never see anyone the likes of Vinnie or Frank Remington again. She would grow up on a farm, not the side streets and darkened warehouses of New York or Los Angeles.

"I… I didn't see them." She hiccupped and brushed a tear from her eye as she looked up at Marty. Even kneeling he was taller than she. "Daddy said… he told me to hide. H-He…" She sobbed again and held her tiny hands to her face.

"It's okay, honey. Just tell me what happened."

"I hid under the bed… Daddy said… he told me to find Vinnie. But…" She shook her head, more tears falling down her cheeks. "I didn't know where Vinnie lives! So I came here."

"Okay. Listen carefully, Mabel. I need you to think. Think real hard. Can y'do that for me?" She looked at him with wide glistening eyes, but nodded her head slowly. "Okay, good. I need you to tell me if you heard anything. Any names, anything they might have said. Do you know how many there were?"

She bit her lip and squinted, as if trying to remember. "I don't know… I heard shouting. There were two, maybe? No, three… I saw three pairs of boots…"

"From under the bed?"

"Yah… They were looking through the closets for something... and then daddy ran out from the bathroom." She swallowed hard, trying to regain some composure. Frank had always taught his daughter to be strong and by god she was trying to be strong now, Marty could tell. "I heard shouting… and then there was gunshots." She shivered again as if hearing them in her head again. "And then they all ran out of the room…"

"Okay, then what happened? Did y'hear anything else?"

She shook her head and clutched the thin blanket around her a little tighter. "I opened the window and jumped out, just like Daddy taught me to. And then I hid in the neighbor's yard… and he didn't come get me like he said… so…" So she'd come to his house. Marty closed his eyes and wished to god that he didn't have to deal with this.

"How long ago?"

Mabel shook her head. "I don't know…"

Marty sighed and looked down, only then noticing the bloody footprints leading from the kitchen to where the little girl now stood. "Shit." He didn't even mean for the curse to slip out in front of her. "What happened to your feet?" He asked in alarm. There was a small patch of blood spreading out from her left foot into the light brown carpet. Well, there went his cleaning deposit.

She looked down as if only now noticing that she was only wearing one wet, dirty slipper. Marty gently picked her up and carried her around the couch and set her down on the cracked leather cushions, crouching down on the floor to look at her foot. There was a jagged cut running along the heel and where it wasn't caked with dirt there was still blood dripping from it. He cursed out loud again and told her to stay put. Rushing to the small bathroom, he grabbed his first aid kit and soaked some clean hand cloths in water. On the way back from the bathroom, he grabbed the phone from the small table next to the kitchen and pulled it as far as the cord would reach.

"This might hurt a bit, honey, but I gotta get this cleaned out." Mabel only nodded, her eyes still wide in apparent fright. She didn't even seem to feel the cloth as he tried his best to clean out the wound. It was deep and rough looking, like she'd stepped on a large piece of glass. Whatever it was, it hadn't stayed in her foot. It was a wonder that she was able to walk on it at all… but then again, the girl seemed to be almost on the verge of shock. Whatever had happened at her father's house was obviously still trying to sink into her head. Marty gritted his teeth and silently swore that if Frank wasn't dead already, he was going to kill him himself.

As he worked on cleaning the wound, he took a moment to dial Vinnie's number. It rang four times before Vinnie picked up.

"This better be good", came a raspy voice from the other end.

"Shit's gone down. Someone got Frank, I don't know who." He winced as the last clot of dirt came free from the gash and the blood started to flow a bit more heavily. Mabel only seemed to stare off at a spot on the floor, not really hearing the conversation or noticing the pain. Marty didn't really know anything about shock or hysteria, but that couldn't be a good sign. Vinnie's doc would have to take a look at it later.

As he bandaged up Mabel's tiny foot, he told Vinnie what had happened. "I don't know what to do. This isn't really my thing."

There was a sigh from the other end, and Marty could hear movement. "Bring her to me. Maybe she'll remember more on the way over."

"Might want to have Leroy there to take a look at her. Her foot's cut up pretty bad. I got it wrapped up, but I don't know nothin' about infections or whatever. It might need stitches."

"I'll call him. Just get her here as soon as you can. I'll tell Jacob to let you in."

"Right. Be there in fifteen minutes." He hung up the phone and looked at the girl once more. She was still sniffling every once in a while and reaching up to wipe her nose, but she seemed to be coherent.

"I'm going to get you a clean shirt to put on, and a coat. Then we'll go see Vinnie, okay?"

Mabel nodded and hiccupped again then asked in a quiet voice. "And you'll find my dad?"

"Yah. We'll find your dad."

* * *

They pulled up to the iron gates in a beat-up Chevy truck and Marty leaned out the window to hit the call button. A metallic whine and a pop from the bars, and they started to swing open even without an answer from the small electronic box. A camera trained on the gate would have let the guard inside the house know who it was, and Marty didn't hesitate to drive through the gates and up to the small manor that overlooked the ocean cliffs. There were lamps lit all the way up the driveway, and Marty could see lights burning inside as well. It looked as though the entire house was still awake, even for it being almost midnight.

Mabel had not spoken much on the drive over. She was curled up on the bench seat next to him, a tear sliding down her cheeks every so often. She was wearing a large hockey jersey that fell down past her skinny knees and a pair of his old ratty house slippers. Her hair was still wet, but the plaid blanket was still wrapped around her shoulders and she clutched at it protectively.

He pulled the truck right up near the large oak double doors and killed the engine. Sliding out, he turned and held his arms up to Mabel, and she leaned over and let herself be plucked from the cab. He gently set her down and shut the door. "Do you need me to carry you?"

"No, thankyou." She answered very quietly. She limped along, obviously feeling the pain in her foot now. He wanted to pick her up and carry her like a doll into the house, but Frank's daughter was just as proud as he was, once she was over the hysterics. Marty could tell that she was trying so very hard to be strong in front of him now. Or perhaps, it was in front of Vinnie that she wanted to appear strong. Vinnie was an intimidating man who even frightened Marty sometimes. He wasn't sure how often Mabel and Vinnie had actually met, but she obviously knew enough about him that she didn't want to appear weak. Wiping the last of the tears from her still red eyes Mabel held her head up as she hobbled along, her lip only trembling slightly to show her nervousness.

They waited at the door only a few moments before it opened to reveal an older gentleman in a butler's garb. He said nothing but looked disapprovingly at the truck parked so close to the door. There was an open car port twenty yards past the grand entrance with additional parking spaces just beyond that for visitors. The front walkway was obviously not the ideal place for an unsightly truck like his, but Marty honestly didn't care at the moment. The girl was his only concern.

"Where's Vinnie?" He asked Jacob as he held tightly to Mabel's hand. "He's expecting us."

Jacob shut the door firmly behind him and inclined his head toward the back of the house. "In the library, sir. I believe you know the way." There was no love lost between the two of them. Marty and Jacob hadn't quite seen eye-to-eye ever since that unfortunate incident with the butler's granddaughter. How was he to know that she wasn't really a hooker? She certainly had been dressed like one.

Marty nodded and gently pulled Mabel along with him, keeping a slow pace so that she could keep up easily. As they neared the large door to the library, he felt a flutter of apprehension. The thought occurred to him that Vinnie might not let him take Mabel if something happened to Frank. What if Vinnie meant to keep her and raise her up the same as Frank had been. Marty was not a strong man and he knew it. He would not have to courage to disagree with Vinnie, even if he knew it was wrong. Vinnie had invested a lot of money into Frank and his abilities… and if he lost Frank, he might take the daughter as payment. He should have thought this through, he realized suddenly. Why hadn't he waited to call Vinnie? He should have worked out a plan first… or just left her at home and come to Vinnie himself. He could have said she was too tired to travel. She was too hurt… something. _Anything_. But it was too late now. Marty cursed himself for not having seen it sooner.

As they stepped into the library, Marty could see Vinnie standing at the mahogany bar across the room, pouring a glass of brandy. No… two glasses of brandy. It took him a second to realize the second drink was not for him. It was for the other man standing on this side of the bar, his back to the door. Marty's jaw dropped open and it took only a second for him to realize who it was.

"What the _hell_ is going on?" Marty demanded.

Frank Remington accepted the crystal glass from Vinnie and turned around with a lopsided grin on his face. "Fancy meeting you here, Martin."

Marty glanced down at Mabel who was staring wide-eyed at her father, her tiny hand shaking in Marty's large one. He turned his eyes back to her father. "You…. You _monster_! What the hell were you thinking! She thought you'd been taken! What the hell kind of father does that to their child!" Marty dropped the girl's hand and advanced on Frank, his anger growing with every step. "She was scared out of her mind!"

Frank only raised the glass to his nose and sniffed appreciatively before taking a sip. "Oh? Was she?" He looked past Marty and winked at the little girl still standing near the door of the library. Marty stopped and twisted around to look at Mabel. She looked the same. Only… her eyes were gleaming, but not with tears. And one side of her little mouth was now threatening to curl up into a smile that eerily resembled the one on her father's face. Her hands no longer clutched at the blanket as a lifeline, the tension in her body was gone.

Horror slammed into him and Marty couldn't seem to find the words that he wanted to scream at Frank.

The tall, dark-haired man beckoned his daughter closer with a finger as he took another sip of brandy. "What do you say, Vinnie? She's getting good, isn't she? Granted, Martin might not be the hardest target to fool, but I'd say she did a fine job."

Mabel crossed the carpet lightly, barely even limping and came to stand next to her father. Marty could see the look in her face; the pride and yearning for her father's praise. It made him feel sick to his stomach.

The older man murmured a response. "A few more years and a little more experience… and she might be better a better liar than you, Frank."

Frank laughed heartily and downed his liquor. "That she will, Vin."

"You…" Marty finally found his voice. "You put her up to this? Both of you?" He was so mad he very nearly thought he saw red.

"Oh, that was just a bit of fun." Frank patted his daughter on the shoulder. "It certainly convinced you, didn't it? We just wanted to get you here for a drink and discuss the Smith job. "

"No." Marty found he couldn't take it anymore. Without even thinking of the consequences, he found himself yelling into the small library. "This is sick! What you're doing to that poor girl… leave me the hell out of it! I won't be a part of your twisted little games!" His voice trembled in rage as he looked at Mabel, who was only watching at him in curiosity. "It's wrong. It's sick and perverted what you're turning her into! She should be out riding ponies and flying kites and other shit kids do! She cut her goddamned foot open, Frank! What if something worse had happened to her?"

Frank listened but did not seem overly affected by Marty's words. He looked down at Mabel once more. "Your foot, sweetheart?"

She nodded and lifted her left foot to show him the bandage. A little bit of blood had seeped through and she showed it to him with pride. "It's not that bad. I did it with a bottle."

"Now that, Vinnie, is dedication. I told you she was good."

"You're sick!" Marty nearly screamed at them all. "This whole thing is sick!" He clenched his fists and was tempted for the first time in his life to actually throttle Vinnie and Frank with his own bare hands.

"Come now, Martin. Don't go getting all righteous on us now. This is our life. It's what we do." Frank edged his glass over the bar and Vinnie began pouring him another.

"It's what _you_ do! Valorie never wanted this for her daughter!" Frank's jovial demeanor turned ice cold in a heartbeat and Marty knew he'd crossed a line.

The only sound came from the crackle of the fireplace as Mabel looked from her father to Marty and back. Even Vinnie's hands had frozen where they were on the bar, wiping down a spilled drop of brandy with a towel. When he finally spoke, Frank's voice was quiet. "If you value our friendship at all, Martin… I would suggest you drop this topic. I'll pretend you never said that. Sit down and have a drink."

Martin clenched his jaw and his fists, and fought the urge to throw Val's name at him again. It might get him killed, he knew. Frank did not take kindly to the mention of his wife. He'd never quite gotten over her death, even after he'd tracked her killers down and doled out what he called 'fair punishment'. They looked at each other for what seemed like forever. Marty broke away first, turning on his heel and stalking out of the library.

He had almost made it to the front door when a small patter of feet behind him made him pause. He turned and saw Mabel stepping lightly on the balls of her feet so as not to put pressure on her injured heal. "Marty?" She called questioningly.

"What?" He was wary of her now, he realized with a start. _Don't trust her_, a small voice in his head screamed… but she looked so innocent. It was _wrong_… turning a beautiful creature like her into something so twisted and perverted.

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to make you mad." She seemed genuinely sorry, but for all he knew it was just another act, encouraged by her father and Vinnie.

He stared at her for a long while before nodding. "Promise me something, kid."

"Okay?" She looked up at him with those doe-like eyes and his heart broke just a little.

"Never stop being sorry. It will keep you human." He nodded in the direction of the library. "When you stop caring, you turn into them."

She tilted her head and looked at him, puzzled. Without waiting for a response, Marty turned and quickly left.

* * *

**Author's Notes**: So… there's that. A little study in parenting techniques. One of these I don't recommend. Perhaps it's melodramatic, but eh. Whatever. I think I've come to realize that my humorous writings are better received, but it seems too late to try to put in a bunch of funny. Maybe in later chapters once all this background stuff is cleared up. If you read, please review. I need the reassurance.

Also, it's late and I've worked this chapter over for far too long. I apologize for any spelling errors or things that don't make sense.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Leo or the turtles. Just Emi.

**Author's Notes: **I might have not said it before, but thank you for the reviews. They mean the world to me. I love you all.

Chapter Summary: Stubborn Leo is stubborn! And Emi looks over her passports.

* * *

**Regret **– Chapter 7

* * *

"Valkyrie." Raphael was looking at Leonardo with a stunned expression on his face. "As in… _the_ Valkyrie."

Leo frowned and leaned back in the kitchen chair. He had gathered his brothers together for a family meeting after deciding that it was time to tell them what had happened. Two days had passed since he'd followed Emi and found out the truth. Two days he'd spent roaming the streets near her apartment that now stood abandoned. She'd never returned, he was sure of that. Leo had checked back at least six times in the past 48 hours. There was no sign of anyone coming or going in the small one bedroom flat. In his heart he knew that she would not come back. What had been her home now stood as silent as a tomb.

"You've heard of her?"

Raph's familiarity with the name probably shouldn't have surprised him. "Yah. But…" His brother seemed to hesitate, which was very un-Raph like. "Listen, Leo… Are y'sure that's what she said?"

"I'm sure. What do you know about her?" He had steeled himself all day for what he was sure would be one of the more humiliating experiences of his life. Leonardo needed his brothers' help if he was going to find Emi… and in order to enlist their help he had to tell them what had happened. He had gathered them in the small kitchen and set out a pot of tea which no one had bothered to partake of. Rather than drag the story out, Leo had buried everything he'd been feeling about Emi and just started from the moment he'd heard her phone ring as he perched outside the window of her apartment. He had told them of the call and how he followed her to the postal supply store and then to the park. His voice had only wavered slightly as he described her quick and efficient kill and the papers that had been left behind at the scene. He'd shared only minimal details about how he'd confronted her, and then returned to find her gone. Leonardo was careful to only mention what he'd seen and heard; what he'd _felt_ and what he was still feeling was something he would deal with on his own.

Raphael had kept silent while the tale was told, idly using the point of one of his sais to pick at his fingernails. Donatello had kept putting a hand to his face and whispering _'oh my god'_, over and over. Michelangelo's eyes had grown wider with each moment and there had been a couple '_duuuuude'_s muttered here and there. When at least his story was finished, Leo had only stared at the table waiting for the accusations to start flying. He'd expected most, if not all, of them to come from Raph, who was sitting across from him. There had only been silence and then finally Raphael had simply said, "Damn, Leo. Y'sure know how to pick 'em."

Now Raphael was starting to slowly shake his head and frown. "Heard rumors… never paid much attention to 'em before. The Valkyrie gets called in when someone needs to be taken out quick. Usually mob informants or other sloppier hitmen that didn't do the job right. She doesn't work for cheap." Raph paused and seemed to muse over something in his head. "If it really is Emi… Geez, Leo. She's been doing it since she was a teen."

Not wanting to think about that, Leo leaned forward and placed his hands on the table, looking his brother square in the eye. "Let's not pretend that I don't know the type of people you associate with when we're not around, Raph. I need you to start asking questions. We need to find out where she's gone." Leo turned his gaze to Donatello who was still wearing a slightly shocked expression. "Donnie, I need you to start doing some in-depth background checks. Use everything we know about her. We need to think back and remember if she's ever mentioned any friends or relatives… any names or other information that we can remember."

"Leo…" Mikey's voice was quiet. "What if we _do_ find her? What then?"

"I…" Leo paused as he looked around at his brothers. "I don't know. We talk to her. We help her."

"Help her do what, Leo?" Raph casually asked. "Reform? Stop killing people? How likely do you think _that_ is?"

Honestly? He didn't feel it was very likely at all. But that didn't mean he wouldn't try. "Look… we just need to find her."

"We all liked Emi, Leo." Donatello finally spoke up. He spoke more lightly than the gravity of the situation should have allowed. "But we need to talk about what happens when we find her. I mean… if she doesn't want our help, do we just let her go?"

"Why not?" Raph shrugged. "Most of the people she's taken down have been bad news."

"I don't believe you." Leo shook his head in frustration. "What she's doing goes against everything we fight to protect in this city."

"And nothing you've told us says that she'll _want_ our help. She _left_ when you found out what she was. Didn't even have to think about it. So what makes you think-"

"I have to believe she'll change!" Leo interrupted Raph with a near explosive outburst. He stood suddenly, almost knocking his chair over. Stepping out from the table he began pacing the kitchen. "I just…. I have to." He paused then started again. "You've all spent time with her. None of us saw this coming. It couldn't have been all lies. Emi was desperate for a family, and she found one here. You all saw that."

"We saw what she wanted us to." Raphael stated bluntly.

"I refuse to believe it was all a ruse." Leo countered. "She wanted to belong. Emi wanted…" His voice trailed off, but he was sure his brothers knew what he wanted to say. _Emi wanted me._ His words hung unfinished and he stopped his pacing as he turned once more to look at his brothers. "She'll listen." Was all he could say.

"And if she won't?" Donatello asked cautiously.

Leo shook his head but refused to follow that line of thought. "Just find her." He walked from the kitchen with a determined step. He would check her apartment one last time tonight.

* * *

One week had passed since she'd last seen Leonardo. Fully intending to be in a new place within a couple hours, Emi had left that evening and ended up sitting on a park bench for nearly the whole night. The sun had just started to break over the horizon when she'd found herself ringing the emergency call button at Meredith's clinic. For the past week she had been crashing on Mer's couch in the small two-bedroom apartment above care facility. Meredith never had been one to ask too many questions and so she had just brought out blankets and pillows from the closet and told Emi she could stay as long as she wanted.

After the first two days, Emi was sure of three things. She was still in love with Leonardo. Second, she really really wanted to go bowling again. And third… she couldn't keep the name Emi for much longer. She'd already kept it much longer than she should have. Now as she sat on Meredith's couch, the dark skinned woman placed a cup of hot cocoa on the coffee table in front of her and sat down in an overstuffed leather recliner nearby with her own mug.

"What about Helen?"

Emi cringed and sorted through the pile of passports on the table next to her coaster. She pulled out Helen Idleman's and leafed through it. "I don't know… I don't like being a blonde…"

Meredith frowned and traced a finger around the ring of her steaming cup of cocoa. "Well… I always liked Ida."

Emi shook her head. "Nah… I can't go vegetarian again."

"Susan?"

"Susan was a real bitch… no one liked her." Emi picked up another passport and flipped open the pages. "Maybe I should just come up with someone new. I can afford it."

There was a soft sigh and the other woman shook her head. "You know that just because you use the name doesn't mean you have to _become_ someone different."

Emi glanced up with a confused look. "It's what I do, Mer."

"Yes, and it's creepy as hell. I don't like it."

They looked at each other for a few moments before Emi shifted her gaze to the scattered passports. "What would you suggest I do?"

"Have you ever tried just being Mabel?"

"Not since I was sixteen." The year her father died.

"Maybe it's time you went back to her."

Emi frowned and didn't respond. She dropped the identifications in her hand and picked up the mug Meredith had brought her. Settling herself back on the couch, Emi sighed heavily. "Do you think of me as a friend, Mer?"

Dark chocolate eyes looked her over and the woman half smiled. "I think that it's more important that _you_ think of me as a friend."

She turned her gaze to the doctor and wanted to ask her to expand on that when the cell phone in her pocket rang. Frowning, she took it out and didn't bother looking at the caller id. There was only one person who had the number to this particular mobile. The one she'd kept for the last three years and that Leo had used to contact her was now resting in a landfill somewhere. She'd turned it off the night she left her apartment and had never turned it back on.

With an apologetic smile directed at Meredith, Emi answered the phone. "Hey, Marty."

"We've got a problem." His tone of voice never seemed to vary these days and Emi could tell he was wearing down. The lifestyle was just getting to be too much for him. Of course, the drinking and cigarettes probably didn't do too much to help with his health problems. Tonight's issue could range from a hitman about to burst through the door to a possibly misplaced stapler. Knowing Marty as well as she did, the stapler seemed the more likely option.

"We've always got problems. What else is new?"

There was a groan from the receiver and a shuffle of papers. "One of these days I'm not going to be around to cover your ass. You need to start watching yourself."

Emi rolled her eyes and took a sip of cocoa. "Just tell me what has your panties in a bunch. I'll take care of it."

"Someone's asking questions about Emi Trudell and the Valkyrie. Did you slip up to the wrong person, girl?"

A slight pain went through her chest, but she couldn't say it was entirely unexpected. Of course Leo and his brothers would be looking for her. It was the logical explanation. No one else would have been able to make the connection. All the more reason to figure out a new identity tonight. The sooner she ditched Emi, the sooner she could get on with her next life. It would be much better to bury the small flicker of hope that had just ignited in her gut. And who was to say that the only reason Leo wanted to find her was so that he could stop her? What if he didn't feel the same anymore and wanted to find her out of a sense of duty; wanting justice for all those people she'd killed. She couldn't blame him for feeling that way.

"Don't worry about it, Marty."

"Don't worry?" He coughed once and his raspy voice pitched a little higher. "Vinnie is pissed!"

"Vinnie doesn't own me. It's not his problem."

"It will be his problem if shit goes down and something happens to you! Believe it or not, kid, some of us care about your well-being!"

"That's sweet."

"Don't you sass me, Mabel." Emi flinched and wondered if Marty even realized he'd used her real name over the phone. At least he hadn't used her last name as well. That was almost an offense worthy of bringing to Vinnie's attention. Not that she would want to get Marty in trouble. She did care for him in a strange sort of way.

"Look, I'll take care of it. I promise." She paused in thought for a moment and looked at the passports scattered on the table; a thought struck her suddenly. "I'm going to California."

"What?" She could almost picture the cigarette falling from his mouth.

"I'm taking a breather. And getting a new identity set up. New York is feeling a bit crowded right now."

There was a raspy silence and she could tell he was torn between telling her to never come back and that she shouldn't leave in the first place. Marty didn't want her in this line of work, and she knew it. She'd known it most of her life. But he was Vinnie's man, and would do whatever it took to keep him happy.

"How long?" Was all he finally asked.

"I don't know. A couple weeks. Maybe a month or two. I'll call Guerrero and set it up."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that. You know how Vinnie feels about that guy."

"Just tell him not to worry. Have I ever let you guys down? I'll take care of this little problem, and be out of your hair for a while. Then I'll be back, good as new. Later, Marty." She hung up before he could protest and slipped the phone back into her pocket. Glancing back to Meredith who was looking on at her with disapproval, Emi just smiled. "Fancy a trip to San Francisco?"

The older woman shook her head and sighed. "You're going to get yourself killed one of these days. The people you keep company with…"

Emi gave her a cheeky grin and set down her coffee mug. "No one's killed me yet. I consider that an accomplishment." She leaned over and rummaged around in a small backpack sitting next to the couch and pulled out a different mobile phone. "I need to make a few calls. Mind if I take over your office for a while?"

Meredith just shook her head and waved off the smaller woman. "Do what you have to. I have to go downstairs and do some inventory checking anyway."

She waited until the doctor had left the apartment before setting about making her phone calls. It only took her fifteen minutes to arrange a flight out of New York. She'd be on the other side of the country by noon tomorrow. The second call was to Guerrero who seemed happy to hear from her. With him you could never be sure though. He'd smile and offer a beer one moment and then turn around and rip someone's fingernails out with pliers the next.

The last call she was going to make would be the hardest. Emi waited until after she'd packed her things and said goodbye to Meredith. It wasn't until she was in taxi on her way to the airport that she finally pulled a spare phone out of the bag. She dialed the number but couldn't seem to hit 'send'. She stared at it for so long that the screen eventually went black and she had to type it in again. Her finger hovered over the green button as her heart skipped a beat. Finally, she pressed it before she could chicken out.

* * *

"What up, party people?" Michelangelo answered the phone around a mouthful of sandwich. It came out slightly muffled due to the overabundance of peanut butter. He put the plate down on the end table next to base of the phone and picked up the remote, preparing to flip on the television. His finger paused on the power button as no one answered. "Hello?"

"Hey Mike." Came a soft voice, hesitantly.

His eyes widening, Mikey searched around desperately for one of his brothers. He could just barely see the back of Donatello's shell through the doorway to the kitchen. Michelangelo dropped the remote and started desperately snapping his fingers trying to get his brainy brother's attention, but the small stereo he'd left playing in the kitchen after making his sandwich drowned out the noise. "Oh… hey Emi." He tried to say it loud enough for someone to overhear, but still, no one was close enough. He looked around quickly and his eyes finally settled on the sandwich. Bending over just enough to clear the doorway, he sent the pb&j sailing through the archway.

"He needs to stop asking questions." Her voice sounded tired.

"Hey!" came Donatello's startled cry from the kitchen. He emerged a second later, a large smear of chunky peanut butter and grape jelly on the side of his head. He was holding the ruins of the bread in one hand. The look on his face was really more confused than angry.

"Sorry, what was that, _Emi_? Donnie was making noise, I couldn't hear you." Mike gestured wildly at the phone and made a strained face.

Luckily, Don was smart. Instantly forgetting the sandwich's innards on his face, he bolted for his lab where a trace on the phone line was already running in the background of one of his computers.

"Tell him to stop." Emi said again.

"Um… who?" Mikey wished Leo had been home to take the call. He'd be much better at trying to keep her on the line than he was.

"Mikey…" She sighed and seemed to hesitate. "Tell him I'm sorry. And tell him I'll miss him. But Leo needs to stop digging; he won't find anything."

"Emi, he just wants to talk to you." Michelangelo was still having a hard time thinking of the sweet girl he knew as a cold-blooded killer. There was a deep breath on the other end of the line and Mikey thought perhaps he was actually getting through to her. She hadn't hung up yet, and that was a good sign. "Why don't you just come on over? We'll order some pizza or bad Chinese take-out or both. And we'll watch Die Hard and paint each other's nails… And you and Leo can talk about stuff."

There was a smile in her voice as she answered. "I always liked you, Mikey. You were always good at cheering me up. Thank you for that."

"I feel a 'but' coming on."

"_But_…" another sigh. "I can't stay. Leo just doesn't understand. I don't know if any of you can, really."

"Sure we can. Just give us a chance." He cringed and wished he had a script to read from for this conversation. He really had no idea what he was doing when it came to negotiating with contract killers, sweet or not.

"I have to hang up, Mike."

"No, wait!" He tried to think of a way to stall her further. "Just… um… tell me one thing!" When there was no click of the phone he tried to think of something to say that wouldn't sound completely made up and pulled out of his shell at the last moment. "You do love him, right?" He cringed at himself, but at the same time knew that Leo really wanted to know the answer. He hadn't come outright and _said_ that he had doubts, but Mikey knew he did.

"I don't think that really matters anymore."

"Of course it matters! C'mon, Emi. Just between you and me." _And the tape recorder that Donnie started running_, Mikey sheepishly thought to himself.

"Yes." It caught him off guard how quickly she answered.

"Oh. Well… that's good! We can work with that."

"Goodbye, Mikey."

"Wait!" But the phone clicked and she was gone. He pulled it away from his face and looked at the receiver wishing he'd been smoother and able to keep her talking longer. And Leo would probably be home soon and he would be really upset that he hadn't gotten to talk to her. Mikey exhaled and gently placed the phone back into its cradle.

He looked up as Donatello came walking back into the living room, wiping the side of his face off with a blue mechanic's rag. Don was opening his mouth to speak, but Mikey beat him to it.

"I know, I know. I did a horrible job at keeping her talking. Just send me to my room without dinner. I deserve it."

Donatello looked at the rag, folded it once and then used the clean side to dab again at the bits of peanut butter still clinging to his cheek. "Actually, I was just going to remind you that this isn't the early eighties anymore. We haven't owned a phone with a cord in over a decade." He looked pointedly at the cordless phone that Mikey had just set down. "Next time, just walk into the kitchen."

"Oh… right."

* * *

Reviews are fantastic! They make me want to write more!

**Author's Notes**: There's a little cross-contamination from another of my favorite fandoms in this chapter. It's not really a cross-over though, just a passing mention. Free hugs to anyone who knows which fandom it is.


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